How they Celebrate
by Boy On Strings
Summary: A series of one shots or short stories that show how the pack interacts during Holidays. It's a companion piece to another one of my stories called Slow Burn. Some of these are more adult themed than others.
1. A Very Werewolf Thanksgiving

**Author's Notes:**

**Disclaimers: NC-17 once it gets going, Eventually, there will be other pairings besides Derek and Stiles. It's definitely going to have male/male sex of various kinds so if you don't like that (are there people who don't like that?) then you should probably walk away from this (You've been warned again). It's possible that there is underage sex in this as I never really knew for sure if the characters are eighteen besides Derek, so if that's a problem you'd probably not want to continue reading this****. Lastly, and perhaps the most sad thing, I own nothing Teen Wolf, I make no money from this, I just like thinking of these things in my head and then sharing them.**

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><p>Stiles darted around the kitchen checking on everything in a frantic rush. The turkey had a few more minutes, the stuffing was fluffing up, and the cranberry sauce looked delicious. The smell of pumpkin pie had taken over the kitchen, practically obliterating every other wonderful smell.<p>

"Stiles, honey, I wish you would let me help you more," Melissa McCall said.

Scott gently pulled his fussing mother away from Stiles's workspace. "It's best to just let him do his thing, mom. I almost lost a finger trying to help him once."

Stiles scoffed as he stirred the corn, the mashed potatoes, and the green beans in turns. "You almost lost a finger because you tried to steal some of the apple pie before it had finished rising."

"My bad, Martha Stewart," Scott said, "I didn't realize it was breaking pie law."

A cheer went up from the McCall house's living room. Jackson and Stiles's father encouraged their favorite football team and heckled their opponents in voices that no one would consider suitable for use inside. Stiles heard the tell tale clatter of dishes in the dining room and could only hope that Lydia and Allison were almost finished setting the table.

"Scott, leave Stiles alone. He's busy, go watch TV," Derek commanded.

Stiles grinned at Scott's mom when her eyebrows nearly shot off her head at how quickly Scott did what Derek told him. "You're going to have to tell me how to do that," she said.

"It's all in the diaphragm." Stiles rubbed his stomach, vaguely in the place he thought the diaphragm was supposed to be. Anatomy, when you weren't talking about your significant other, was pretty boring.

She shook her head in disbelief. "Stiles, at least let me pour you a glass of apple cider, you're going to sweat to death before you finish." Mother McCall seemed intent to pitch in, not content to let Stiles completely overtake her kitchen.

Stiles nodded and kept fussing over the stove. Derek came up to stand beside him and stir some of the things he couldn't get to. It was times like this where Stiles wished he had more hands. He glanced over at Derek and noted the way his dark jeans hugged his ass. He grinned wickedly and thought of other times it would be awesome to have more hands.

"Focus on the food," Derek grunted. "I can smell what you're thinking over the roasting turkey."

Stiles grumbled about werewolf senses and went back to preparing the food. He wanted everything to be perfect. This was their first big holiday as a pack, and he wanted everyone to remember it fondly. If it went over well maybe they'd spend all their holidays together like a regular family.

"We're all done Stiles," Allison said as she made her way into the kitchen. Lydia was right on her heels. The two girls didn't waste any time, they knew the boys weren't going to be very much help.

"Is anything ready to go out on the table?" Lydia asked as she inspected the array of food already on the counter. Stiles gestured towards the counter top. When Lydia sighed he gestured again. "Use your words, Stiles; god knows you have enough of them."

"All that stuff is ready, the bread, the salad, the dressing," Stiles said imperiously and ignored the snicker that came out of Derek's mouth. He made last minute temperature checks of the food, confirmed they hadn't lost any of their moisture, and then drank the entire glass of apple cider that Melissa forced into his hand in one long throat working gulp. "Sooooo awesome."

He noticed Derek staring at his neck, probably imagining the way the muscles had worked and strained to swallow all the cider. He chuckled when Derek noticed he was being watched. Apparently Stiles wasn't the only one with more than food on his mind.

A new cheer went up, this time with Scott's voice adding to the Sheriff's and Jackson's. Melissa raised her arms as if to say 'what can you do?' and then looked towards the living room. "Derek, would you mind getting the boys into the dining room?"

Derek smiled at her and when he did, Stiles knew that he had won her over. "I can easily get the boys, but I don't think anyone can tell the Sheriff what to do except for him," Derek said as he pointed at Stiles.

"Tell him he can have one small piece of pie if he goes right now."

Melissa grinned and shook her head. "You're delightfully wicked, Stiles," she said, "I didn't think he was allowed to have any pie though."

"I know. That's why he isn't getting any. I got some yogurt for him; the whole pie thing is just a ruse." Stiles wasn't proud of the misdirection, but if lying to his father kept him alive longer then he'd do it without hesitation.

Derek shook his head and Melissa patted him on the back, "You're a terrible person sometimes."

"People keep saying that. I have no idea why." Stiles threw his hands up in exasperation. He wasn't a terrible person, sometimes people just had to do things even if they didn't want to. It was for the greater good, he was practically a superhero.

Derek shrugged and headed toward the living room. "You know exactly why." He gone before Stiles could defend himself.

It took Stiles, Derek, Melissa, Lydia, and Allison to get everything on the table and everyone in their seats. The Sheriff and Jackson looked back occasionally towards the living room wistfully. Scott knew better with Allison sitting right next to him. He reached for a roll and his mother smacked his hand. He pouted at her and Allison patted his other arm consolingly.

Stiles grinned at everyone gathered around the table. Jackson's parents were out of town on business. Allison's were off on some sort of hunter related work, and Lydia had decided she'd rather not have her parents fight over who she was spending the holiday with so she opted to come to the dinner party Stiles had arranged between his and Scott's families.

The Sheriff did the honors of cutting the turkey, piling the meat high on a large plate. Allison laughed at the looks on Derek, Jackson, and Scott's faces as they all sniffed at it, tongues practically lolling out of their mouths as they panted and watched the steam rise.

"I'm so glad I'm not sitting between one of them and the meat," Lydia said. She unrolled her silverware and placed the napkin in her laugh. "This blouse was never meant to withstand a gravy spray from overzealous men eating with no manners."

Melissa laughed and nodded at Lydia. "I'm afraid I'm going to lose a finger when this feeding frenzy starts."

"Can we eat now, my stomach is about to burst out of my chest to get at this food." Scott's fingers drummed on the table in anticipation. He licked his lips, completely oblivious to his mother's rueful smile.

Stiles's grin was infectious and everyone who looked at him started to smile as well. His leg started to bounce up and down and Derek put a hand over top of it to keep it still. Stiles glanced at his father but the Sheriff just shook his head and smiled. They hadn't had "the talk", but Stiles was pretty sure that his father knew about him and Derek. Especially when he said that Derek would be at the dinner.

"Well," Melissa said tapping her glass of water with her fork, "I think that since Stiles made the biggest portion of the food that he should make a toast."

Stiles froze with his new glass of apple cider a few inches from his face. Everyone blinked at him; it was rare that he was perfectly still like that. Scott made a worried noise and almost stood up before the Sheriff's voice spoke into the silence, "We've never really done anything like that since his mother passed away."

Derek's hand tightened on Stiles's leg, prompting him to start blinking again. He looked over into Derek's concerned eyes. "I-its fine," Stiles said, "We used to have a tradition where we would each say what it was that we were thankful for. I always thought everyone's families did that."

"We don't have to if you don't want to," Scott said, "we can just all eat the food." It wasn't clear if Scott's suggestion was to spare Stiles the possible pain of memories, or if it was just that he was really hungry.

Melissa wailed him upside the head. Stiles couldn't but laugh as Scott rubbed the side of his head and frowned at his mother. Everyone let out a collective breath at the sound.

"I… I'd like it if we all did that," Stiles said, his voice was very small. The pack had in a lot of ways filled a void that his mother's passing had left in his life, but no matter how hard they tried, he was always going to feel that loss. "It'll be like she's here with us."

Stiles felt someone's feet brush up against his from across the table. Allison was sitting across from him, gazing at him with her gentle eyes; she had a soft smile on her face. "She is here with us."

Stiles scrubbed one hand across his eyes. Derek took hold of his other hand under the table. "Okay, dad, you start. We'll go around the table." It was silly, but Stiles was happy people seemed willing to go with it.

The Sheriff nodded and set his glass down. Stiles watched as he looked around at each person at the circular table. It had been a long time since he'd been at a Thanksgiving dinner with more than two people, let alone eight. He smiled; Stiles could tell that his father had missed having more family.

"Well," he said after clearing his throat, "I'm thankfully that everyone here is safe and alive. I'm also thankful Stiles has so many new friends." He paused and looked at Derek for a few moments, "and that he finally seems genuinely happy, instead of running around with his game face on all the time."

Stiles groaned as everyone laughed or smiled at him. _'Way to embarrass me dad,"_he thought. He wasn't going to admit that it made him happy. He scrubbed at his eyes again when Derek squeezed his hand. More so than any other person, his father seemed to know when he was just acting like everything was okay.

The Sheriff looked left toward Melissa. She looked at Scott then wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug; he sighed but let her do it. "I'm thankful that Scott here didn't fail this year, I'm sure I know who all to thank for that. It's been a rough year for him, and he did the best he could with the help of all of you." She winked at Allison over Scott's head. "I'm also thankful that he found such a wonderful young woman."

"Stop you're going to make me cry," Allison said as she put her hands over her mouth.

"Me too, from embarrassment," Scott added moments before his mother landed another forceful blow to his head. He scowled at her.

"Your turn," Melissa said in a voice that was a clear warning that she wouldn't tolerate him making light of the situation.

Scott sighed and looked at Allison, then his mother, and finally across the table at Stiles. "I guess I'm glad I have the best friend in the world, the best girlfriend in the world, and the best mom in the world." He smiled at his mom, but ruined his speech by adding, "Who has clearly been lifting weights recently."

Melissa looked like she was winding up for a right cross when Scott leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. She blinked at him for a moment and then let her hand drop back to the table.

"I'm also thankful that I've met a lot of new people, people that mean more to me than I thought possible." Scott's eyes skittered over Derek, and Lydia, but lingered on Jackson for a few moments longer.

Allison put her hand over the one Scott had resting on the table. "I'm thankful that Scott's mom and Stiles's dad agreed to let us all have dinner together. I'm thankful that I met all of you this past year. This is the first place I've moved to in a long time where I felt like I could actually have a life." She nibbled her lower lip, reached out and grasped Lydia's hand. I'm thankful that I finally have a best friend, especially one who knows which clothes I look best in."

Lydia's eyes got wide. She clearly hadn't been expecting anything. Stiles grinned at her across the table. She ignored him; he loved it when she did that. That's how he knew she cared. They had an odd relationship, but he was happy with it.

"Well, first off, I'm thankful that tomorrow I will be the proud owner of many new pairs of shoes," she paused as if for dramatic effect, "I'm also thankful that Stiles has selflessly agreed to help carry my bags."

Stiles looked into her eyes from across the table and he knew what she meant, they all probably did. He grinned and she sniffed haughtily and took a drink from her glass of water then looked at her reflection in it as though she was trying to fix her makeup. Stiles knew that she was making sure that no one saw the wetness in her eyes. He'd never tell anyone that he had. Lydia ignored him studiously and turned to Jackson and gestured for him to start.

"I'm…" Jackson stopped and looked down at his plate, "I'm thankful that someone made me a home cooked meal, that someone invited me in the first place." His eyes darted over towards Scott. He grunted and looked back towards the living room, "and I'm thankful that my team is kicking butt."

"Boys are stupid," Allison said. She leaned around Lydia and punched Jackson in the shoulder.

He over at her then around at each person at the table as he mumbled under his breath, "I'm thankful to be a part of this family."

Stiles gave Jackson a thumbs-up then made a shocked face when Jackson flipped him off. "Go, Hale, your turn," Jackson growled.

Derek looked over at Stiles. Stiles watched him back, tried to break free of his green eyes and couldn't. Derek squeezed his hand under the table. No one said anything in the silence as the two of them stared at each other. Finally, he said, "I'm thankful that we're all here right now, together." Derek turned to regard the Sheriff. They seemed to be assessing each other, finally Stiles's dad nodded. Derek looked back at Stiles then leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I'm thankful for everything I have." Derek said and pulled Stiles's hand up and set it on the table, still clasping it firmly.

Stiles waited for his face to change back to its normal color. Everyone stared at him. He looked down at the hand Derek was holding. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand again. Stiles was great at talking, everyone knew that. The fact that he didn't say anything spoke volumes all on its own.

"Well," the Sheriff said as he smiled at his son, "let's dig in."

Stiles smiled at his father. Everyone piled their plates full of food. He watched them talk, laugh, and joke. They didn't know it, but they were going to play Pictionary and Charades once dinner was over. He couldn't believe his father had just accepted Derek with no shotgun threats; maybe he'd earned himself a piece of pie. Stiles would wrestle him to the floor if he tried to eat any ice cream though.


	2. Tower Defense

Allison and Stiles crouched down to load the rifles they'd purchased earlier in the day. In the distance the howls of multiple werewolves filled the night's air. They looked at each other and nodded. They would soon find out if they had prepared enough.

"Allison," Stiles said, his voice cracking slightly.

"Yes?" Allison sounded distant, focused on what was coming for them.

"If I don't make it…" Stiles scrubbed the back of his fist against his eyes, "if I don't make it I want you to have my comic book collection. Scott can teach you how to take care of it."

Allison glanced over at him, eyes widening and mouth falling open slightly. "Don't talk like that. We're all coming out of this, or none of us are. You and me, Lydia too, we're all going to be fine."

Lydia's voice cut through the moment they were having, "Don't bring me into this, I'm just here to decorate."

Stiles glanced back at Lydia; she was hanging a set of beige blinds in the north facing window of the tree fort. He grinned at her, but she ignored him. Having finished her work she dusted her hands off and dropped onto one of the three bean bag chairs that decorated the inner sanctum. She picked up an issue of Cosmo instead of the third rifle.

"Lydia, we could use your help in repelling the monsters coming for us," Stiles said.

Lydia scoffed at him and flipped the page of the magazine she was holding. Stiles sighed. She wasn't holding up the sacred trust he had forced her to sign. He made a whiny sound and pouted. She glanced at him momentarily then pointedly turned to the next page.

"Stiles, are you sure the werewolves won't be able to climb the tree?" Allison looked at the hole in the middle of the floor where they had pulled up the rope ladder.

"It won't matter if they do. The wood we used to make the fort is mountain ash." He grinned as her brown eyes widened in shock.

"But we'll never be able to invite our boyfriends up here," Allison said. "We'll never be able to share this with them."

"We said we were going to make a 'No Wolves Allowed' fort, that's what we did. Besides, I knew if we didn't use that type of wood I'd eventually cave and let Derek sex me up in here," Stiles said.

Allison blushed and looked back out the window, smiling slightly as she checked her rifle again. "Isn't it sort of unfair that they can't get to us up here?"

Stiles wondered if she was as good a shot with a rifle as with a bow. He'd soon find out. They all would. "Isn't it sort of unfair that they're super fast and strong? We humans have to use the tools we have. That's why we're the number one species on the planet, not werewolves. I'll defend this fort to the death; it's my pride on the line here."

"You're such a liar," Lydia said, "You know you're just going to give up and roll over when Derek asks you to come down."

"No way," Stiles practically squealed, his voice raising an octave. "I'll gun down Frowny before he can even beg me for mercy. Cut the head off the snake as it were. Without Derek to lead them, Jackson and Scott will just run around like chickens with their heads cut off until we dispatch them too."

"You think you can really shoot Derek?" Lydia asked. Her eyes locked onto Stiles, he felt like she was judging his resolve.

"Well… sure. With this I can, I can get him before he can turn his sex eyes on me." Stiles patted the rifle he was holding.

"Enough talk! They're here!" Allison opened fire on someone who had come into the clearing below. The noise the gun made caused Stiles to jump and almost drop his rifle.

"Holy _shit_, Allison, you're shooting at me," Scott yelled from behind a tree he'd ducked behind for cover.

"All's fair in love and war, baby. Now show me those beautiful brown eyes. I dare you."

"You're so hardcore, Allison. _Awesome,_" Stiles said, "I love it!"

"You're bluffing, Allison; I know you wouldn't hurt me," Scott called back. "There's no way you'd shoot me with a rifle."

"Come out here and test that theory," Allison taunted. "I'm pretty sure I took you down with a taser before."

"She is fond of that taser," Lydia observed as she flipped to another page of her magazine. She was entirely too calm in the midst of the warzone the tree fort had become.

"Don't get distracted. I'm sure Scott's the decoy." Stiles sighted down the length of his rifle, sweeping it back and forth looking for the other werewolves.

"No way," Lydia said, "he's not smart enough for that."

"That's why they wouldn't tell him they were going to use him like that," Stiles said.

"Oh _hell_ no," Lydia dropped the magazine and picked up the third rifle. "I'm not getting outsmarted by a pack of evolved puppies."

Stiles fist pumped the air. Lydia was in the game. Shit was about to get real. He watched in fascination as she army crawled over to the hole in the floor keeping the rifle in front of her. She must have been watching Jackson play too many video games to know how to do that.

Scott poked his head out from around the tree he'd taken cover behind. "Allison, come down here. I just want to talk."

"Come out with your hands up and I'll think about it." Allison winked at Stiles. "Baby, I miss you, maybe you should come join our team. We're better than Derek and Jackson anyway."

"Yeah?" Scott walked out from behind the tree, and Allison immediately unloaded half a clip at him. She would have nailed him, but Derek tackled the beta and rolled back into the trees. A volley of multicolored paintballs peppered the area.

"_Allison_," Scott yelped. "You're trying to shoot me with freakin paintballs?"

"Baby, I told you all is fair in love and war." Allison swiftly ejected the clip on her rifle and replaced it with a fresh one.

The sound of a gun unloading from behind them caused both Allison and Stiles to wheel around. Lydia had one eye closed as she fired through the hole in the floor. The two of them glanced at each other before staring slack jawed at Lydia again.

"Ow, what the fuck?" Jackson yelled. Lydia must have scored first blood. Stiles made a mental note to never fuck with her again, at least while she was holding a weapon.

"You're dead, honey. Lie down and give up." Lydia had a disturbingly satisfied smile on her face.

"That's bullshit. I'm a werewolf. You shot me in the shoulder and all that would do is slow me down for a second until it healed." Jackson probably didn't realize just how sulky he sounded. Stiles would have given anything to have a picture of his pouting blue eyes complaining about where he'd been shot. The image was so ridiculous he laughed out loud.

"Ok fine," Lydia said. "I'm sorry. I'm tired of this game anyway. Come up here and help me down, we broke the ladder earlier. You'll have to carry me on your back."

Stiles and Allison gaped at her, but she winked at them. The sound of wood cracking and splintering drifted up through the hole in the floor. Jackson must have dug his claws in to scale the tree without the use of the ladder. In that moment Stiles realized Lydia's plan, and knew what was coming was going to be brutal.

"Jackson, stop! It's a trick!" Derek must have realized what was going to happen too, but it was too late, and Jackson was probably too stubborn.

"No way, Lydia said she's tired of the game. That's perfectly normal," Jackson said.

"Yeah, and her asking for your help?" Derek sounded resigned. Stiles would have felt sympathy for him if they weren't mortal enemies locked in combat. He grinned only a little bit, and hardly felt guilty.

"Oh _shit,"_ Jackson said. Stiles heard the realization and horror in his voice. He tried really hard not to start giggling.

"Bye bye, honey." Lydia unloaded the rest of her clip down the hole where Jackson was presumably clinging to the tree unable to dodge. Stiles winced at the grunting noise Jackson made when he hit the ground. "You're dead now, Jackson, right? Do I need to reload?" Lydia was delightfully merciless when it came to games. Stiles still had Vietnam flashbacks of the most brutal game of Battleship he'd ever played.

Jackson didn't respond, but Lydia seemed satisfied with whatever gesture of surrender he made. She got up off the floor and took position at the window on the opposite side of the tree fort. Clearly she'd switched into business mode, and for Lydia, business was good.

Stiles turned to check on Scott and Derek, and unloaded most of his clip when he saw Scott gesture for Derek to join him behind a large rock at the edge of the clearing. Stiles had known that it was going to be a problem, but there wasn't any other tree big enough for his design of the sanctuary.

"It looks like they're making a plan," Allison said. She nibbled her lower lip. "I think Scott's the one coming up with it."

"Looks like we don't have anything to worry about then," Stiles joked, but winced as Allison punched him in the side. Even if they were on opposite sides at the moment, Stiles knew Allison wouldn't let anyone smack talk Scott without some sort of repercussion. Stiles's phone buzzed in his pocket, the unexpected sensation almost caused him to drop his rifle out the window.

He dropped behind cover and opened the message. Derek had texted him, a dastardly move. Derek was cunning and evil. The message said, _'If you want your birthday present (hint: you very much do), take care of the two women and come join our side.'_ The illogical part of Stiles's mind told him that Derek's use of extensive special characters while texting in a high stress situation was sort of amazing, but mostly he was focused on the mystery present. Evil, Derek was capital 'E' evil. The werewolf had promised he'd get something really special tonight after they played the war games Allison had planned for Stiles's birthday. Lydia and Allison looked at him in alarm. They must have sensed his momentary weakness.

Stiles wasn't going to be proud of what he intended to do. He unloaded several shots from his rifle in the enclosed space of the fort. Allison and Lydia both yelped in shock. Stiles stood up and leaned out the window. All's fair in love and war though, right? He felt dirty, it was only going to get worse. Maybe he was a terrible person underneath all the sexiness and intelligence.

"Derek," Stiles called out. "Let's negotiate the defection now. I want to know what you're offering."

"Told you he'd give up if you offered him something sexy," Scott said. "Let's go." The two werewolves came out from behind the rock looking smug. All of their swagger melted away when Allison and Lydia jumped up into the window, and the three of them brought down a rain of paintball hell upon Derek and Scott. They were so shocked they didn't even react as they were peppered by the capsules until an errant shot hit Scott in the groin. He dropped like a sack of rocks.

"Oh god," Scott panted, his voice came out far too strained. "I think I'm going to throw up."

"Stiles," Derek growled. "You're supposed to have joined our side."

"Sorry, Derek, but we'd already planned for this contingency and developed a secret series of hand signals for if one of us was offered a chance to betray the others." Stiles winked down at Derek's dumbfounded expression.

"You've got to be kidding me," Derek said. "That's ridiculous."

"All the brain power in the pack is up in this fort." Lydia shook her hair out of her face. "That's why all the wolves are dead."

"Bitches," Jackson mumbled from bellow the tree house. Lydia calmly walked back over to the hole in the floor and unloaded the rest of her clip. Stiles carefully joined her to survey the damage. Jackson had one hand covering his groin, the other his head. He rolled out of the line of fire. Lydia ejected the clip with a satisfied smile on her face. Stiles wasn't even going to pretend to try to understand the dynamics of their relationship.

"You know Stiles," Derek said. "This means you probably aren't going to get your present now."

Stiles returned to the window and pouted down at Derek, inwardly gleeful as he watched Derek's resolve start to crumble. Stiles grinned right before Derek caved, freeing the werewolf from the spell of his eyes and lips. For whatever reason Derek always folded when Stiles pushed a subject. "Oh I'll get the present, or you won't get any of this sweet ass tonight! Plus I have a surprise for you too, but you have to show me yours before I'll show you mine."

"Over-share," Jackson and Scott grunted in unison, though Scott's voice was still higher pitched than normal. A groin shot to a werewolf left psychological scars even after the pain had gone away and the bruises healed.

Derek pulled his paint covered shirt off and rubbed his hand languidly across his abs. Stiles licked his lips, the rifle dropping from his suddenly nerveless fingers as Derek unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them. Stiles could see the boxer briefs Derek was wearing. Stiles wanted to know what they felt like… with his tongue. His brain started to lose most of its higher functions.

"Come down here and we'll go back to the house and celebrate the rest of your birthday," Derek said.

"Later, ladies," Stiles said as he dropped the rope ladder down through the hole in the floor. "It's been real." The girls laughed as he shimmied down the ladder. Jackson was lying on his stomach seemingly still afraid of getting shot again. Stiles patted him on the ass. "Good game, Jackson."

Derek turned to walk away. Stiles ran to catch up, and tucked his hands into the back pockets of Derek's jeans. He glanced at Scott who was sort of rolling back and forth on the ground and groaning. Stiles winced in sympathy. "Allison I think you're boy needs some TLC." He didn't wait around to hear her response though. Derek's pace was picking up, and Stiles practically vibrated with excitement thinking of what Derek might have planned.

"Just remember, Stiles, you earned this." Derek's voice was probably meant to sound ominous. Stiles licked his lips and his grip on the back of Derek's jeans tightened. He couldn't wait.


	3. Every Beat

**Author's Note:**

**The following chapter contains some BDSM elements, including spanking and breath play. You have been warned.**

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><p>"Do you think we should have a safe word? You know like banana or something?" Stiles couldn't see Derek's face, couldn't see anything actually since he was blindfolded, but he imagined Derek was smirking. Stiles shifted his stance slightly, rocking back and forth in place as Derek tied his hands behind his back. The ropes were soft, silky, and bright blue. Stiles had bought them earlier in the week. He probably should have been more nervous about letting a werewolf tie him up while he was wearing only a pair of jeans.<p>

"I don't think that'll be necessary," Derek said. He slid warm hands up along Stiles's spine, placed a soft kiss on his bare shoulder.

"What if I say I want you to stop, but I don't really mean it, even though I might mean it?" Stiles acknowledged that sounded insane, but he figured he had a right to sound a little nervous. The whole rope thing had been his idea, but the theory was a little different than the reality. Derek chuckled, warm breath ghosting over the back of Stiles's neck. He threaded the rope around Stiles's waist, then up his sides to twist around his shoulders. Stiles twitched nervously as the cords wrapped around his throat, the material tickled slightly when he swallowed.

"I'll know if you really mean it," Derek said.

"What if you misinterpret?" Stiles's voice trembled as the ropes tightened around him.

"I'll know," Derek said. He kissed the back of Stiles's neck. "I know what every beat of your heart means. I know when it means harder. I know when it means faster. I know when it means don't let me go, and I know when it means push me a little further. I know when it means I love you, and I trust you."

"Oh," Stiles gasped as Derek punctuated his statement by licking between the rope and his spine. "I suppose that means you'll probably know."

"Enough talking," Derek said. He bit down on Stiles's shoulder, his teeth sharper than Stiles thought normal. Though normal was relative when the guy you were having sex with sometimes had fangs. "I showed you mine earlier, now it's time for you to show me yours."

"I can't show you anything. I'm all tied up at the moment," Stiles said and twisted his wrists against the restraints, gasping when it caused the coils around his waist and arms to tighten incrementally. He relaxed and the tension eased. "This is going to be aweso—"

He cut off at the sharp smack of Derek's hand on his ass. Stiles felt the faint sting even through the denim of his jeans. There was a low growl of warning and a sharper bite on his shoulder. Stiles's dick twitched at the impact, and he felt blood rushing to his face.

"I said enough talking." Derek swatted him with another solid blow. Stiles gasped and went up on the tips of his toes, fingers twitching and wrists pulling at the ropes. When he'd brought out the rope the possessive look in Derek's eyes had rocked Stiles at the core, but he wasn't expecting to be spanked also. He trembled as Derek's hands ghosted around his body to unbutton and unzip his jeans. Derek took his time tracing the lines of Stiles's hips and the small trail of hair below his belly button with his fingers. Stiles panted, trying not to laugh when Derek's light touches stroked over some of his more ticklish spots. He instinctively brought his legs closer together to help Derek get his jeans off easier. More naked would be good.

Derek slid Stiles's pants down his legs to pool around his ankles. Another stinging slap caused him to stumble slightly; he would have fallen if Derek hadn't caught hold of the ropes that trailed from his neck back to his wrists. For one terrifying moment the material constricted his airway and he gasped out, heart racing and blood pounding in his ears.

"Only bad boys don't wear underwear," Derek said.

Stiles trembled again; he awkwardly shuffled his feet out of his pants so they wouldn't trip him. "Derek," Stiles panted. He was confused, unsure if he was aroused or scared, but just saying Derek's name eased some of the tension. He'd imagined Derek would tie his hands to the bed and then bang him until his eyes crossed. Things weren't going exactly as he'd planned. That wasn't new; none of his plans tended to go off without a hitch, and often included at least one person running away from something.

"You're fine," Derek said. "I'm not going to let anything happen that you don't want." Derek patted the slightly burning cheeks of his ass.

Stiles bit his lip. Derek's hands left his skin and Stiles had the sense that Derek was moving back from him. He flexed his fingers nervously and licked his lips. "Derek, where are you going?" He tilted his head to try to hear, but Derek was moving too silently, the floorboards of the room didn't creak at all. Stiles's heart picked up, he swallowed, the ropes flexing over his neck as he did. "Derek I'm scared," Stiles said, voice a little higher pitched than normal.

One warm hand rubbed against his stomach from the front, brushed down into the light dusting of hair at the base of his cock, the other one curled underneath the rope around his neck, holding him steady. Derek's warm mouth closed over his, tongue brushing against the lips he'd been biting nervously. Stiles moaned into Derek's mouth, his dick hardening as Derek tugged on it playfully. He took a couple stuttering steps forward. Derek moved back, leading him with one hand around the coils of the rope around his neck, almost like he had his fingers threaded through a collar, the other hand pulling his now straining cock to guide his hips.

"You're not scared," Derek told him. "You want more." Something about Derek's certainty made Stiles just a little bit more certain too. He took as deep a breath as he could. He still wasn't sure if it was excitement or fear that had his spine tingling, and his cock throbbing in Derek's tight grip. It was enough that Derek was confident, Stiles could let himself be taken care of, could trust Derek to make him feel good, and give him what he wanted.

"I want—" Stiles's sense of balance twisted and vertigo washed over him. Derek's hand on the ropes yanked him forward and for half a second he was falling. He almost yelled out in panic. He was dizzy, his stomach to fluttered. He was blind, couldn't move most of his upper body without choking himself, and resting over Derek's knees, the denim of his jeans rubbing against Stiles's belly. Derek grasped the back of the rope on Stiles's neck, knuckles brushing Stiles's spine forcing him to hold his head up or cut off his own oxygen supply.

"I said, enough talking," Derek growled. He brought his hand down more forcefully, the stinging rippling out from Stiles's ass causing his thighs to shake. He bit his lower lip and let out a low whine, his dick was so hard, shame and excitement mixing in his stomach, making him light headed. "That was your last warning. Next time I'll spank you for real."

Stiles panted roughly, hips trembling. He tried to get some friction to his cock, to distract himself. He made needy high pitched sounds, begging Derek without words. A tiny part of him wanted to beg Derek to stop. He twisted his wrists against the ropes, gasping when it cut off his air supply again momentarily. He couldn't do anything, he was naked, stretched out over Derek's lap being spanked and he couldn't do anything. He'd never been more excited in his life, and never been so desperately hard. Stiles wanted more.

"Glad to know you weren't serious, got to tell you, Derek—" Stiles gasped as Derek's hand came down again. He spoke through clenched teeth. He'd never really been good at not talking. "I kind of feel like you don't have your heart in it."

Derek's hand came down in a rapid series of slaps. Stiles's ass started burning again. He imagined it was bright red. Tears formed in his eyes at the stinging. He didn't know how much more he could take.

Derek reached under Stiles's hips and wrapped his fingers around his cock, the grip reversed, the feeling different from how Stiles was used to it. Derek gave him a few slow tugs and Stiles panted, begged for more, for harder, for faster. It was wordless and needy and he hoped that Derek really did know what the different beats of his heart meant because he wasn't sure anymore if he knew the difference or how to communicate it.

Stiles thrust his hips erratically, pushing himself deeper and harder through Derek's grip. The muscles in his neck strained from holding himself in a position where he could breathe. He was getting close, so close, fire lighting up in his stomach, his balls drawing up, and his breath hitching.

Derek's breathing got harsher too; Stiles knew that Derek could tell he was getting close, so close that Derek could _smell_ it, knew that it made him crazy. Derek loved that moment right before Stiles came, the anticipation of it, of having been the one to deliver what he needed.

That's why it was such a shock when Derek's grip tightened around Stiles momentarily and then released him. Stiles gasped out at the sudden loss of sensation. His body flailed momentarily in protest, and Derek's hand came down again on Stiles's already sensitive ass. The sting of it caused his balls to tighten up further, stoked the fire already burning in his belly.

Stiles's world suddenly shifted again, twisting around as Derek picked him up, spun the two of them around and then dropped him on the bed. Stiles was on his knees, arms still tied behind his back, with his chest resting on a pile of pillows. He was finally able to relax his overworked neck muscles, no longer needing to hold himself in a position where he could breathe.

Derek withdrew his hands leaving Stiles confused, dick twitching in need for release. Derek was keeping him right on the edge, walking a razor thin line of pleasure and too much. The bed to the side of him dipped and Stiles had no idea what Derek's plan was until tight, wet, heat surrounded his cock. He gasped out and bucked his hips forward, thrusting deeper. Derek made a hungry growling sound around Stiles's dick, tightening the force he was using. Stiles thrust mindlessly forward, Derek normally held him down when he wanted to use his mouth and tongue like this, but Derek was letting him do what he wanted. He fucked wildly into Derek's mouth, fingers flexing, wrists straining against the ropes and gasping when it cut his air off again.

"Nnnggghh, Derek, so close, please…" Stiles begged, but he didn't know what he was begging for. He had everything he needed, but he knew that Derek liked to hear him, liked to hear the desperate wanton noises he could make.

Stiles buried his face in the pillows, and mewled out his pleasure. His toes curled as he thrust forward into Derek's mouth erratically, groaning when Derek swallowed around him, pulling at him with his mouth. Derek flicked his tongue around Stiles's dick when he pulled his hips back before lunging forward again. Derek groaned, the vibrations going straight to Stiles's balls. Derek's hand came down on Stiles's ass again, the shocking spike of pain and the force pushing him deep enough into Derek's mouth that he felt lips brush against the skin at the base of his dick. Derek held him like that swallowing and sucking till Stiles couldn't take it anymore. The spike of pain and the sucking heat was too much. He started shaking, legs trembling as he came, but Derek didn't let him go, the pleasure, the sucking heat didn't stop. He whined out of some deep place in his chest he didn't even know he could make noise from. Derek just kept pulling, seemingly desperate and hungry for whatever he thought Stiles still had in him.

"D-Derek, too much," Stiles gasped out.

Derek released him for a moment, licking at the tip of his cock before swallowing him down again. Derek rolled Stiles onto his back without letting him out of his mouth. He started making the groaning noises that indicated he was close to the edge of losing control. He must have been jerking himself off, getting off on how much pleasure he was giving out. Stiles's breath hitched, tortured and pleased whimpers slipping through his teeth. The sensation was too much, too good, he felt like he was going to black out. He felt Derek's body suddenly go rigid, the wet suction increased, the groans and vibrations getting louder and it was tearing Stiles's mind apart. Just when he thought he was on the edge of tears Derek let him go. Stiles gasped for breath, body shaking erratically.

"You're okay," Derek whispered as he leaned down and placed a kiss on Stiles's sweaty forehead. He patted and rubbed Stiles's stomach soothingly, kissed down over his cheeks and neck. He licked teasingly over Stiles's nipples, and took one last swipe at the tip of his dick. Derek let out a chuckle at the mindless noises Stiles emitted. "I'll untie you, and take care of you. I promise."

"I love you," Stiles whispered. His throat felt raw, he was the best kind of blissed out and tired.

Derek pulled the blindfold off and forced Stiles over onto his stomach, began slowly untying the ropes. Stiles felt boneless as Derek pulled him up to his knees to unwind the coils from his body. He ran soothing fingers over the reddened skin. When he was fully free of the cord Stiles collapsed back onto Derek's bed.

"I love you too," Derek said. Stiles winced slightly as Derek ran curious fingers over his ass. "Stay here a second."

Stiles laughed hoarsely, as if he could move even if he'd wanted to. Derek came back a few moments later and started to rub some sort of lotion into Stiles's burning backside. He moaned softly, hiding his face in the pillow to muffle the noise. He shivered as Derek ran kisses up his spine.

"So, I think it's time to tell you what your present is," Derek said.

Stiles blinked in confusion for a few moments before realizing that the rope had been something he bought for them, not something Derek had gotten. "What is it?" Stiles wanted to lift his face from the pillow, he really did, but he had no energy left. He was relatively sure it'd all leaked out of his dick.

"Look at me," Derek whispered.

Stiles turned his face towards Derek and sleepily blinked his eyes, then opened them wide in shock when he realized Derek was holding a video camera. "Y-you—"

"Taped the whole thing?" Derek nodded. Stiles had the feeling Derek was zooming the camera in on his face. "I didn't know it was going to turn out like it did though, didn't know what you had planned."

Stiles gaped at him. There were already crossing all sorts of boundaries, including technically species boundaries, but making a sex tape was not something he'd have thought they'd ever do. He wanted to watch it, over and over, probably every day for the rest of his life.

"We're keeping it here though, not risking someone finding it at your house," Derek said. "I'm sure your father would hunt me down like a dog if he ever found it."

Stiles opened his mouth and emitted some noises that he wasn't even sure what meant. Derek's point was valid, but if it was at Derek's, then how could he watch it whenever he wanted? Derek was mean, awesome at sex, but mean.

"You're welcome to come over and watch it with me whenever you want." Derek licked his lips in an eerily predatory manner that made Stiles's dick twitch in renewed interest. Watching the video with Derek would either be incredibly embarrassing or the most amazing thing ever. It was a tough call. Stiles looked away from Derek's green eyes and out the window.

"Can—"

"Yeah, we can watch it now if you want." Derek was right; he really did know what every beat of Stiles's heart meant. It made him smile. Derek climbed into bed with him after connecting the camera to the TV. Derek stroked his hair soothingly as the video started.

Stiles winced as he heard himself say from the television, _"Do you think we should have a safe word? You know like banana or something?"_ God he was stupid sometimes.

"Hey, Derek?"

"Yeah?"

Stiles knew he might be sounding a little greedy, but he couldn't help himself. "You got me a cake or something too, right?" No birthday was complete without cake and ice cream.

Derek chuckled, paused the video as he ran his hands over Stiles's short hair. "Of course, you want it right now?"

"No…" Stiles was asking too much, they could just focus on watching the video. The fact that Derek had gotten the cake was enough. He idly wondered if there were candles or what he would wish for. He sort of had everything, not much of it was what he'd fantasized about, but it was so much better.

Derek pushed Stiles off of him and hopped to his feet. "You want some chocolate milk too, right?" Stiles kept his eyes focused on the television. The image frozen on the screen was Derek's slightly elongated teeth sinking into his shoulder. He brushed his fingers over the red mark that had formed on the skin. If someone did find the video, the teeth probably wouldn't give anything away. Derek grinned and left the room. Stiles wasn't surprised when he came back with a tray that had bowls of cake and ice cream, and two glasses of chocolate milk balanced on it. Derek was fucking awesome, and to show his appreciation Stiles was planning on spilling a generous portion of his cake and ice cream on Derek, and then diligently cleaning it up.

"These are old sheets," Derek whispered into Stiles's hair as he pressed a kiss against his head. "Just saying." Stiles grinned and licked ice cream off one of the spoons. He gave Derek a wink. The werewolf smiled back at him and hit play on the video they'd just made.


	4. Mistletoe Minefield

Five people all opened the same Christmas card, at slightly different times, two weeks before the night of their Christmas party. Five people read, with various levels of escalating horror, the message that it contained:

_Lydia's Laws of Christmas_

_Mistletoe requires a kiss. It doesn't matter who you're dating. It doesn't matter who you're with. It doesn't matter who you would have to kiss._

_Forgetting your Secret Santa gift counts as fifty breaches of the rules, and I will personally murder you._

_Prohibited activities:_  
><em>Any unseasonable activity, such as (but not limited to):<em>  
><em>Sourness or negativity<em>  
><em>Glowing eyes<em>  
><em>Growling<em>  
><em>Breaking anything<em>  
><em>Spilling or dropping anything<em>  
><em>Arguing with the hostess<em>

_As the hostess, and most socially conscious member of the pack, I reserve the right to add any additional laws at any time. This is not negotiable._

_Breaking any of the laws will require you to place a $1 donation into a collection jar. All the money collected will be donated to the Make a Wish Foundation. Whoever breaks the most laws must donate an additional $5. You cannot pre-donate to proactively take part in any of the above listed activities. You are welcome (and encouraged) to make additional donations._

_Merry Christmas,_  
><em>Your presence is expected,<em>  
><em>Lydia Martin<em>

One person was sure that he would not break any of the rules if he could help it. That person was sure because he was told that if he was _really, really_ good, that he would have something special at the end of the night. That person was going to get that present, no matter the cost.

"So, did you bring money in case you break any of the laws mentioned in the card?" Stiles asked as Derek opened the car door for him. Stiles loved that Derek did little things like that even if sometimes it made him feel a little girly. Derek scowled. Stiles would have pointed out that would probably count in Lydia's eyes as breaking her laws, but it would have made things worse.

"I stopped at the bank on the way to pick you up," Derek said, his scowl getting… scowlier, "I assume the teller thought I was getting money to go to a strip club with all the singles I asked for."

Stiles opted to chew on the end of his scarf rather than respond. He tried fairly unsuccessfully to hide his laughter from Derek. He heard the rustling of bags being set on the ground before the trunk of Derek's car slammed closed. He seemed to be in quite a mood.

"Oh come on, Derek, I'm sure it's not going to be that bad." Stiles said.

"I brought singles to cover you too. The no dropping or breaking anything ones have me worried." Derek grinned at him over the car. Stiles wasn't going to sink to Derek's level. It simply wasn't the season for it. He _accidentally _stepped on Derek's foot as he went to pick up some of the bags, but everyone knew he could be clumsy at times.

"It was really nice of Lydia to organize this party," Stiles said as he walked up the path to the Country Club's main building. He wasn't sure what it was called. The Clubhouse? He sighed wistfully. He wanted to build snowmen under his tree fort, but after the last sledding incident and his subsequent weekend of being sick, Derek had instituted a limit on the amount of time he could play in the snow. Sometimes he was shocked at what he would put up with for sanity destroying sex with the hottest werewolf in the world.

"Stop it," Derek said.

Stiles raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend. He wasn't sure exactly what he was supposed to be stopping. "I don't know what you're—"

"Stop having sex thoughts," Derek interrupted.

Stiles gave Derek a scandalized look. Derek leered at him. He broke away from Derek's gaze, feigning a cough as they made it to the door. He didn't have a free hand to knock so he opted to bang his head gently against. He turned just in time to see Derek raise an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"Nothing, I just don't think we have to knock." Derek started to move to try to open the door, but before he could reach the handle it swung open. Lydia stood in the doorway.

"Merry Christmas," Lydia said.

"Merry Christmas," Stiles and Derek responded in unison. Derek narrowed his eyes at Stiles, but he narrowed his eyes right back. Somehow the night had just started and it already felt like they were taking part in some sort of sitcom Christmas special.

"You guys are so adorable. Now kiss." Lydia's voice did not give any room to argue with her. She watched them expectantly.

Stiles pivoted his whole upper body, plastic bags swishing as he turned to regard Derek. Derek used his head to gesture above them since his arms were also weighed down with bags. Stiles looked up and noticed there was a sprig of mistletoe hanging right above the door. Stiles blushed. Lydia tapped her foot impatiently. Derek got right down to business, nuzzling against the side of Stiles's face, the hot breath on his skin made him shiver. Derek's lips closed over his, and it didn't matter how many times it happened, it was always going to take his breath away.

Derek licked against his lips teasingly; Stiles opened his mouth so that Derek could get inside. Derek made a hungry noise, and licked inside his mouth. Stiles wobbled slightly, thinking that eating a candy cane on the way over had been one of his best decisions he'd made so far that day. Stiles moaned into Derek's mouth, he was going boneless, some of the bags slipped from his nerveless fingers. Derek chuckled against his lips. No wonder Derek always made him carry the bags that didn't matter if you dropped them.

"Because counting every item in every bag you just dropped wouldn't be in the season of giving, I'm only going to count each individual bag." Lydia said.

"Muhhhrrhm?" Stiles asked, he coughed and shook his head. He took a moment to get his mouth and brain working again once Derek let go of his lips. "Excuse me?"

"You just dropped three bags. That means you owe a three dollar donation." Lydia's smile was radiant, triumphant, and utterly infuriating.

"Fine," Stiles mumbled. He grinned widely when Lydia raised an eyebrow, no doubt assessing him for sourness or any other unseasonable activity. Stiles was effusive as fuck, there was no way he was getting hit with a fine over being anything less than ridiculously manic.

"Just so you know, Stiles, I'm not counting the bag dropping against you either," Derek said. "I sort of tried to get you to do it on purpose."

"Oh? Is there some other tally going on tonight?" Lydia looked like a cat that had just found the most enticing ball of string.

"Derek told me I'd get a _really, really_ special surprise if I was good tonight." Stiles grinned widely as Lydia's eyes flickered between the two of them.

"Well, good luck," she said. "I'm sure you're going to need it if you have to be good all night."

"Yes! I'm not the only one who owes a donation now. I don't think that was particularly in the spirit of the season. Zing!" Stiles grinned. Derek and Lydia both laughed. They followed Lydia into the clubhouse, stopping near a large table with a giant jar in the middle of it. As if to demonstrate how it was done, Lydia pulled a dollar bill out of her purse and dropped it into the jar, winking at Stiles as she did it.

Derek set his bags gently down in order to fish his wallet out of his back pocket. Stiles watched and licked his lips. He would have been more than happy to help Derek get it if his boyfriend had only asked for his assistance. Derek turned his intense gaze on Stiles as he dropped three one dollar bills into the jar. Stiles knew that look, it was Derek's 'I told you to stop thinking sex things, but you know that I don't really mean it because I love the way it makes you smell when you're horny for me' look. Stiles loved that look; it was one of his favorites.

"Anyone else here yet?" Stiles craned his neck and looked around for the rest of the pack.

"Everyone's here, in the room at the end of the hall around the fire. That's where we have the food and presents," Lydia said.

Stiles loved food, loved presents, loved Christmas. He was so excited that he was practically bouncing as he made his way down the hall. He looked at Lydia curiously when she picked up the donation jar; so far it only seemed to contain the money they had just placed in it. "You're bringing it to the other room?"

"I'm sure we're going to need it easily available," Lydia said cryptically.

As they walked down the hall a thought occurred to Stiles, he turned to look at his boyfriend. "Derek, I just need to know before we get too far into the party, am I supposed to not kiss anyone or kiss anyone if I somehow end up under mistletoe with them?" Stiles blushed; he really wanted to know what the present was, wanted to make sure to do whatever he needed to get it.

Derek laughed; it wasn't the reaction Stiles had been expecting. "It's just a little Christmas fun, nothing to worry about. We're all pack; a little kiss on Christmas isn't going to hurt anyone."

"I'm glad you agree," Lydia said, stopping underneath the archway that led into the next room. Stiles almost ran into her not having expected her to stop so suddenly. She pointed up into the space between her and Stiles. He glanced up; there was another sprig of mistletoe.

"Wow, it's like you booby trapped the whole place," Stiles said.

"You have no idea." Lydia had her mischievous she-devil smirk on. "So what's it going to be, Stiles, a dollar for the children or a kiss for me?"

Stiles glanced back at Derek nervously. His boyfriend tilted his head considering the situation. "Up to you, Stiles," Derek said. "I know who you belong to."

Lydia let out an appreciative whistle. Stiles tried to ignore the heat that was rushing to his face. He leaned forward, licking his lips nervously before pressing them lightly against Lydia's. At one time it was the only thing he'd ever wanted. Little twinges of residual memories surfaced at the touch. He pulled away, sure that he had a goofy grin on his face as he licked his lips. Her cherry lip balm was delicious.

Lydia laughed delightedly before turning and heading into the room. Stiles glanced over at Derek to make sure that he was alright. Derek crowded into his space again, leaned down and captured Stiles's mouth. Stiles moaned when Derek licked along his lips, it made shivers run down his spine when he thought that Derek might have been trying to smother Lydia's taste with his own. Stiles panted slightly when he was let go. Derek winked at him before heading into the room. Stiles looked up at the ceiling as he entered. His mouth fell open in shock.

There were sprigs of mistletoe spread strategically about the room. They guarded most of the walkways between the furniture, they were above the table of presents, above the fireplace, hell, they were even above the hallway that lead to the bathrooms. There was another exit that led onto a little patio; mistletoe guarded that door as well. There was going to be a lot of kissing going on.

He walked carefully to the table that had the food spread out on it; he set his bags on the floor and pulled out the chips, drinks, and cookies he'd brought. He'd baked the cookies himself; he hoped everyone thought they were delicious. Then again, if they didn't find them delicious he could keep and eat them all himself. He cast a glance nervously at the jar Lydia had set down. He thought that might have been unseasonable behavior.

"Hey dude," Scott said as he wrapped Stiles in a warm hug from behind. Stiles went rigid in his arms.

"Oh no, Scott, what have you done?" Stiles sounded borderline hysterical, but he couldn't help himself. Scott's eyes got comically wide, unsure of what he'd done. Stiles watched Scott glance around at the other assembled people. Everyone was laughing, or trying not to laugh.

"What?" Scott shrugged. Clearly lost on what he'd done.

"Baby, look up," Allison said.

Scott looked up, Stiles watched as horror settled over his features. Scott had walked right up to him and hugged him under the mistletoe Lydia had placed by the food table.

"Where's the jar? I'm so putting a dollar in there," Scott said desperately.

"Lame," Lydia muttered. She started to move forward to grab the jar and offer it to Scott, but hesitated when Allison spoke.

"It's okay. You can kiss him," Allison said.

Stiles cast a nervous glance at her. She winked. She was devious and tricky. Stiles faintly recalled Lydia once saying something about girls liking the idea of two boys. Stiles looked over at Derek. He stood next to the fireplace, clearly avoiding the mistletoe just off to his left. Stiles thought Derek might have been chuckling.

"I don't want to make Jackson jealous," Stiles said.

Jackson, who had been taking a drink of soda, choked. His hand shook a little bit and some of the liquid spilled over the edge and onto the table he was sitting at. He got his breath back and scowled at Stiles.

"That's two, Jackson. You spilled something and you're scowling," Lydia said.

"But—"

"Three, you argued with me." Lydia just counted off his offenses like it was the simplest thing in the world. Jackson growled.

"Four." Lydia laughed at the shocked look on Jackson's face.

His body quivered for a moment. He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, walked over to the jar, and dropped a five dollar bill into it. "Keep the change," Jackson said. "I want to do my part to help the children."

Lydia grinned mischievously. "That's the spirit, honey." Jackson smiled back at her using a little more teeth than ususal.

All eyes turned back to focus on Scott and Stiles. Stiles swallowed nervously. He looked over at Derek again who gave him a slight nod. Stiles turned back to Scott and leaned forward to kiss him, not realizing until the last moment when it was too late that Scott had opened his mouth to protest. The kiss was unintentionally awkward and a little wetter that he intended since his upper lip had sort of gotten in Scott's mouth a little. Laughter filled the room as Scott spluttered and Stiles turned away making dry heaving noises.

"Dude," Scott said, "Uncool, I had my mouth open and everything!"

Stiles made gagging noises and held up a finger towards Scott to pause his tirade. He coughed a couple of times, and grabbed a napkin to wipe his mouth off. Then he turned to regard Scott and winked at him. "Wow Scotty," Stiles said, "Allison's such a lucky girl. Your technique is amazing."

Scott pushed him lightly. Stiles pushed him back. Scott pushed him again.

"Whatever man, you were like one of those things that cling to the side of an aquarium with its mouth," Scott teased.

Stiles spluttered, reaching out to smack Scott in the head. Scott ducked away and ran towards the fireplace. Stiles had almost caught him when Derek snagged his arm as he passed by. Stiles turned to open his mouth in protest, but Derek's mouth covered his again. Stiles froze in place, let Derek have his way with his lips.

"So, That's how you get Stiles to be quiet and stay still," Jackson said.

"I'm not sure it works for everyone," Allison said, laughing softly.

Stiles melted against Derek momentarily. It wasn't until he heard Lydia's voice that he was able to think again. Derek rubbed his hands soothingly along Stiles's arms, it gave him goosebumps.

"Scott you owe the jar a dollar." Lydia and her rules for Christmas were not to be taken lightly.

Scott opened his mouth, but then clicked it closed. Stiles grinned, he must have learned from having seen Jackson that you didn't argue with the hostess. Scott dropped a dollar into the jar.

"Can I ask what that was for?"

"For fighting, you started a fight, I decided to exercise my on the fly addendum clause to say that fighting costs one dollar. I hadn't assumed it was necessary. I had forgotten how immature boys could be," Lydia said.

Stiles cleared his throat. Lydia looked at him and then blushed. Without saying anything she pulled out a dollar and dropped it into the jar as well. Everyone laughed. Stiles was going to keep getting her with the unseasonable sassiness, he knew it, she knew it, and it made them both grin.

"Can it be present time?" Allison blushed when everyone looked at her. "I'm just really excited to give mine."

Stiles rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Derek walked over and offered him a drink. Stiles looked into it to make sure it wasn't eggnog. That stuff gave him the creeps. Derek gave him a curious look, but he just gave Derek a thumbs-up as he took a drink of the soda.

"Everyone get some food and then gather around the fireplace," Lydia said. "Once everyone's settled we'll do the gift exchange in alphabetical order."

The pack bustled about the room, setting presents on the table and getting food and drinks. Everyone seemed incredibly conscious of the placement of the mistletoe. No one was making any mistakes until Stiles stumbled over Jackson's stretched out legs while coming around the food table. He went off balance and almost fell into Allison. Derek caught Stiles, keeping him from going head first into the fire, while Allison gracefully hopped backwards, right into Lydia. The two of them were right in front of the fireplace, right under a sprig of mistletoe.

Jackson whistled. Scott perked up like he just caught the scent of sizzling bacon. They both licked their lips. Stiles watched with interest as the two girls looked up and noticed where they were. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles's waist, rested his chin on Stiles's shoulder and whispered, "I could almost believe Jackson planned that somehow."

Stiles grinned, but didn't say anything. This would certainly be interesting. He wondered if they'd kiss or pay. Lydia turned to regard Allison, the dark haired girl smiled shyly. The boys watched with rapt attention as their girlfriends closed the small space between them. Allison brushed her fingers through Lydia's strawberry blonde hair; Lydia ran the backs of her fingers over the graceful curve of Allison's neck. Scott knocked his drink over on the table. Jackson's eyes were alight with twisting green energy. Scott's eyes were focused molten gold.

Stiles tried to glance at Derek, but his boyfriend had tilted his face into Stiles's collarbone, breathing shallowly against his skin. Stiles grinned, the scent of Jackson and Scott's interest in the two girls must have been invading Derek's senses. He was trying to drown in Stiles's scent as a defense. It was wonderful, made Stiles's spine tingle. He turned his attention back to the girls.

Lydia went up on her tiptoes as Allison leaned down, their lips pressed lightly together. Stiles was awed by it. Luscious bright red lips, met a softer, deeper shade of red. Lydia's arm curled around Allison's back, hand dancing over the taller girl's hips. Allison gently stroked her fingers along Lydia's cheek, coming to rest lightly behind her ear, thumb stroking across a soft pale cheek.

Stiles watched in fascination as the two girls swayed in place together, lips a gentle glide. It was different, different than anything he'd ever seen. Even when Derek was being gentle, kissing another guy was powerful, fierce. This softness, it was beautiful. No male fire pushing it to be something more. It was amazing, like soft ripples on water the way their lips moved against each other.

They pulled apart, blinked at each other for a few moments before turning to look at the boys that were watching them. Stiles whistled appreciatively the way Lydia had earlier. Allison blushed, her cheeks going almost as red as her lips. Lydia glanced at Scott and Jackson.

"Jackson, you owe a dollar. Scott you owe two, and clean up that drink," Lydia said. Her voice was soft though, lacking some of the power that normally compelled people to listen to her immediately. Each one of them had broken the glowing eyes law, and Scott spilled his drink on top of it. The jar was rapidly filling with money.

Stiles could tell that Lydia was embarrassed, he wouldn't out her though. It wouldn't be seasonable. He'd probably tease her about it at some point. It wasn't often he got to do something like that, she was normally so cool and collected all the time.

Jackson and Scott shook their heads, the light of their inner wolves faded from their eyes. Scott blinked a few times before realizing that some of his drink was dripping onto his leg. Jackson laughed and Scott punched him in the arm. Jackson punched him back.

"One more dollar from each of you," Lydia called out as she started pulling chairs away from the fire, clearing a spot for them all to sit on the floor.

The two boys added the money they owed to the jar. Stiles watched Jackson move over to the table of food, he was sniffing, looking for something else to eat. Stiles glanced over at Scott who was looking at Jackson's back. Stiles tilted his head curiously as Scott glanced up at the mistletoe hanging right above Jackson's head.

Allison and Lydia were busy moving furniture; neither of them seemed to notice Scott walking nervously towards the table. Stiles turned his face towards Derek who was still resting his chin on his shoulder. He couldn't see Derek's face, but felt Derek nod against him, felt his fingers curl against his waist. Stiles rested his hands over Derek's, stroked them lightly with his fingers, and got rewarded with a soft kiss against his neck.

Scott was standing right behind Jackson; the blonde seemed oblivious as he snagged another cheese cube and slice of peperoni. When Scott was close enough to be in the mistletoe's domain he froze, turned, and was about to walk away.

"Lydia, looks like we have another mistletoe victim," Derek said.

Stiles gasped in shock, he hadn't expected Derek to say anything. The girls turned and looked. Jackson turned and found himself facing Scott's back. Scott's mouth worked soundlessly. He turned to face Jackson, who fidgeted nervously. Stiles watched them curiously. He'd heard about their fabled one hot tub stand, and he remembered joking about the two of them flirting when they were on their trip. He didn't really understand at the time, about the scent sharing. This seemed to be more than that though.

Stiles turned to watch the girls, to see their reaction. Allison's face was almost as red as when they'd watched her kiss. Lydia on the other hand was watching the two boys by the table with her calculating gaze. Allison leaned over and whispered something into Lydia's ear.

Jackson's hands started shaking nervously, something about it made Stiles sad. Jackson reached behind to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. "Don't worry, McCall, I'll cover us both," Jackson said.

Scott hesitated for a moment. Without looking up into Jackson's face, he grabbed his wrist to keep it from getting to the wallet. "I don't want you to."

Stiles gaspe. He'd never really heard Scott's voice sound so small and nervous. Derek's arms tightened around his waist, and Stiles bit his lower lip as he watched his best friend shift back and forth.

"It's okay," Derek whispered into his ear. "Allison told Lydia that she wanted to see it. You know how Lydia felt already. No one's going to get hurt by this."

Stiles's fingers closed tighter on Derek's hands. Derek was wrong, they were all wrong. Stiles could see it in the tension in Jackson's neck, the way his wrist trembled as Scott's fingers drifted lightly over the skin. Tomorrow would be just another day for all of them, for everyone except Jackson. He was going to be haunted by this, but was too afraid he'd never get it again to let the opportunity pass him by.

"Scott," Jackson whispered, barely loud enough for Stiles to hear. The tone was desperate and needy and Stiles knew what it meant and it broke his heart a little. He blinked his eyes to clear away the wetness building in them. Derek's arms squeezed him gently.

Scott brought the hand that wasn't holding onto Jackson's wrist up, ran his thumb along Jackson's cheek before gripping him firmly by the back of the neck as he said, "It's okay, Jackson. I'm not going anywhere."

Jackson wrapped his arms around Scott's body, pulled the two of them tightly together. Scott wrapped his arms around Jackson's shoulders. Jackson leaned down and Scott tilted his head back. Their lips pressed together. Stiles heard Allison's soft gasp, but didn't want to look away. He wanted to see this thing that had a hold on Jackson. He wondered if anyone else knew. He wondered if anyone really understood what was going on there between the two of them.

Scott's fingers curled in the back of Jackson's hair. Jackson lifted Scott slightly off his feet pressing their bodies together. The fire caused flickers of shadow to race across their bodies. It was intimate in a way that even Lydia and Allison's kiss hadn't been. Stiles turned his head away, felt like he was intruding.

He glanced at Allison and Lydia. Allison was holding Lydia's hand, had her lower lip trapped between her teeth. Lydia leaned up to whisper something to Allison. The dark haired girl smiled, nodded at Lydia and they turned to finish getting the area around the fireplace cleared.

Stiles turned to look back at Jackson and Scott; the two of them were holding hands, palms to palms and resting forehead to forehead. Scott had his eyes open, Jackson's were closed. Scott leaned in and placed another quick kiss on Jackson's lips before pulling away. Scott went over to Allison, helped her finish moving one of the heavier chairs. Stiles watched Jackson, his heart ached as Jackson's gaze followed Scott. Stiles pulled out of Derek's grasp, wanted to make sure Jackson was okay.

He rushed up to Jackson and pulled the startled werewolf into a hug. Jackson almost pushed him away, but before he could Stiles whispered into his ear, "You're going to be okay." Stiles felt Jackson's body tremble for a moment before hugging back. He looked into Jackson's pale blue eyes, ruffled the guy's blonde hair and smiled, knowing it was infectious. After a few moments Jackson smiled back. They pulled apart. Stiles was about to turn around and go back to Derek when he heard his boyfriend call out again.

"Looks like it's Jackson's lucky day." There was something in Derek's voice that Stiles couldn't quite put his finger on. It wasn't negative, wasn't anger. It was something else.

"Well pucker up Stiles," Allison said. "You're certainly making the rounds tonight."

"I-I just wanted a hot dog in the little bread thing," Stiles stuttered. He blinked and almost swallowed his tongue at what he just said. The girls laughed delightedly.

"Well now you can have a slice of beefcake instead," Lydia teased.

"It's cool, Stiles, you've done enough." Jackson looked down at the floor like he dropped the keys to his Porsche and couldn't find them.

Stiles looked over at Derek, watched him nod, eyes focused and intense. It was like Derek wanted him to do it. He'd purposefully called out and let the others know he was by the mistletoe with Jackson. Stiles turned, laced his fingers through Jackson's belt loops. Jackson made a surprised noise, almost a protest, but stopped and watched as Stiles licked his lips, mouth hanging slightly open. Stiles grinned inwardly, that trick worked on everyone.

Jackson leaned down, lips brushing against Stiles's nervously, cautiously. Jackson must have thought Derek was going to tear his throat out, clearly didn't know how to kiss a guy with any real force to it. Stiles took possession of the kiss, did what Derek did when he kissed Stiles. He nipped lightly at Jackson's mouth, licked to soothe the sting.

Jackson gasped in surprise. Stiles pulled away, turned to look back at the rest of the pack. Lydia had dropped the cushion she was holding. Allison gaped in astonishment. Scott's eyes were glowing amber. He looked angry and possessive. Stiles swallowed nervously. Derek's eyes were blown open, pulsing purple light twisting in the depths. Stiles walked over to him. "You okay?"

Derek gripped Stiles's hips, and pulled him close with enough force it made Stiles gasp. Derek kissed him fiercely, like it was the only thing keeping him alive. Stiles was drowning in Derek's mouth, couldn't remember how to breathe. Derek released his lips and nosed against Stiles's cheek until he turned his head to the side. Tight, sucking heat enveloped Stiles's neck until he knew a bruise was forming. Derek wanted to see it, wanted to see him kiss Jackson, but wanted to make sure everyone knew who Stiles belonged to.

Stiles almost fell when Derek let him go, his knees were weak. He coughed nervously as everyone in the room watched him. "Well," he said, "I know Lydia dropped something, and everyone's eyes were glowing at one point or another. I say we all just put five dollars in the jar to help the kids, and open our presents."

Everyone rummaged into their wallets and purses and dropped the money into the jar. They dispersed, gathering up their gifts and drinks. Scott and Jackson grabbed their plates of food. Everyone sat on cushions on the floor in a half circle around the fire.

"Ok," Lydia said, "Allison's first since we're going alphabetically. If your gift has a card, you have to read it aloud so we can all hear what it says."

Stiles noticed Scott's eyes get wide. Everyone else seemed to be looking at Lydia. Stiles wondered what it meant. Allison giggled delightedly; she picked up the gift bag in front of her. It was silver with blue ribbons and a blue bow. She crawled across the floor and offered it to Derek. Stiles grinned at his boyfriend as he curiously pulled out tissue paper and found a card. Derek opened it and flipped the card open.

"To Derek, From Allison," Derek said. "Thank you for bringing us all together and watching out for us." Derek smiled at her, and he got up on his knees to give her a light hug. They both settled back into their positions in the circle as Derek went back to rooting around in the bag. He came out with a little holder that was clearly a gift card. He opened it and chuckled. "Home depot, exactly what I need."

Stiles chuckled; they'd been working on Derek's house as a pack after he'd gotten it back from the county. Derek had a small apartment he lived in. He told Stiles he didn't want him to stay over in his family's house until it was rebuilt and looked the way it was supposed to.

"Alright Derek," Lydia said, "It's your turn."

Derek picked up a rectangular box that was about a foot long, six inches or so high, and six inches wide. It had red and green wrapping paper covered in reindeer. Stiles thought it was adorable. They had agreed they wouldn't share who they had gotten in the gift exchange. Derek slid the box across the circle toward Lydia. She smiled, assessing the box, no doubt trying to guess what was inside before she opened it. There was a card on the top; it was small, like a tag. She flipped it open and read, "To Lydia, From Derek. The smaller item is the gift, the bigger thing is an unrelated apology. Hope that doesn't break the rules."

Lydia glanced at Derek curiously. She tore the wrapping paper off and on top of the box there was a smaller thinner rectangular gift. She pulled the paper off that one and laughed to see Derek had replaced her copy of _The Notebook_.

"Sorry I broke your original copy," Derek said.

Lydia laughed and set it aside. She opened the other box to reveal an expensive pair of shoes. The same ones Lydia had lost to water damage in the warehouse during their beach vacation. Stiles grinned when he saw Lydia's eyes fill with tears. She stood up and Derek stood at the same time. She hugged him; they were right in the middle of the circle. Stiles coughed, they both looked at him. He pointed up. Allison had gone over to Derek and thus dodged the mistletoe. Lydia and Derek had met halfway, perfectly caught in the trap. Derek raised an eyebrow at Stiles. Lydia watched him for permission.

"Go for it," Stiles said, "I've gotten with nearly everyone tonight."

Allison laughed; she was the only one he hadn't kissed. He winked at her and she gave him a thumbs-up. Allison was like his best female friend now; they'd bonded over the tree fort. Stiles and everyone else turned to watch the two in the middle. Stiles licked his lips, this was going to be electric, the two most dominant members of the pack. He wondered if Lydia would fight Derek for control of the kiss. She never had a chance; Derek wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, lips claiming her mouth. There was no tongue, but Lydia was helpless under Derek's onslaught. Her arms wrapped around his neck. She was unsteady when he set her back on her feet.

When Derek sat back onto the floor Stiles crawled over and licked at his lips, tasting the cherry lip balm that was there. If Derek could kiss away the evidence of anyone who got to him, Stiles was within his rights to do the same. He bit Derek's neck for good measure earning a gentle pat on the ass for his diligence.

"Well," Lydia said, still a little flustered. "I believe that means it's Jackson's turn."

Stiles looked at Jackson, was surprised that Jackson was staring at him already. There was a card resting on the floor in front of him, he picked it up and winged it across the circle. Stiles didn't manage to catch it so much as pin it to the carpet with his flailing hands. Jackson grinned at him.

"Before you open it," Jackson said, "The stuff inside isn't the gift, just the card. I didn't want to break the fifty dollar rule, so consider the other stuff whatever you want. The card is the gift."

Stiles regarded Jackson curiously. He opened the card; there was some sort of paper folded up inside of it. He set the paper aside and read the card. "To Stiles," he said, clearing his throat, "From Jackson. The trip to the beach may have been Derek's idea, but you were the person who made it the best experience of my life. You helped bring us all together, showed us things about each other that we'd been missing. It's because of you that I feel like I really have a family now. I hope you like the thing in this card that is not a gift because Lydia would get super pissed if she found out I broke the fifty dollar limit. P.S. Don't ever let her read this, okay? Thanks man. With love, Jackson."

"You sort of screwed me there you realize that right?" Jackson shifted uncomfortably and looked over at Lydia. Stiles looked at her also, grinned when he saw she was smiling.

"I think you're fine man," Stiles said, "now let's see what this paper is."

Stiles opened it and his mouth dropped open in shock. It was a confirmation for the rental of a lodge at a ski resort in Colorado, and the confirmation for six plane tickets. It was scheduled for the last two weeks of January.

"We can change the dates if we need, as long as we do it in the next two weeks." Jackson mumbled, "Well, I mean you can, you can take whoever you want."

Stiles gaped, it was ridiculous. The gift must have been expensive. "Jackson," Stiles said, "I don't know what to say. Of course I hope all of us can go."

"Go to what?" Scott perked up, craned his neck as if he could somehow read the card from across the circle. Stiles closed the paper up and put it back in the card. He crawled across the floor, passing out of the domain of the mistletoe before pulling Jackson into a hug. Jackson squeezed him back and Stiles returned to Derek's side, handed him the card. Derek whistled when he saw what was in it.

"What is it?" Scott didn't seem willing to let it go.

"We'll talk about it later; I want to get through everyone's gifts," Stiles said. Jackson's gift was so generous it could easily eclipse anything anyone else had gotten. He'd tell the pack in a few days to make sure everyone would have time to arrange their plans so they could go.

"Alright," Lydia said, "Next up is me." She pushed a fairly large box around Allison in front of Scott.

Scott rubbed his hands together in excitement before picking up the card. He opened it up, chuckling as he read out loud. "To Scott, I hope this helps you perfect your game further." He glanced curiously at Lydia as he tore off the white wrapping paper with snowflakes on it. Inside was a black leather bowling ball bag. He opened the bag to reveal a black bowling ball with what looked like golden claw marks raked around it. She'd clearly had it custom made for him. "Thanks Lydia," Scott said as he crawled over Allison's lap to give her a hug, "This is great."

"I'm glad you like it, we should arrange a three way bowling date sometime soon. Also, you're up next." Lydia settled back onto her heels, idly stroking the shoes Derek had gotten her. Stiles grinned, loved that Derek had gotten her something she really liked.

Scott had a card also, he stood up and walked behind Allison and Lydia and offered it down to Jackson. The blonde looked up at him in shock, took the card as Scott went back to sit down on the floor again looking at his own feet. Stiles watched as Jackson pulled out what looked like tickets to some sort of event. Jackson nibbled his lower lip nervously while holding his breath as he read the card, then scrubbed the back of his hand over his eyes.

"Two tickets to a hockey game," Jackson said. "Thanks man." He took a deep breath, let it out slowly.

"I figured you and Danny could go, or whoever." Scott was mumbling, still looking at his feet.

"What's the card say?" Lydia leaned over towards Jackson.

"I-it doesn't say anything, just a regular card, you know, to Jackson, from Scott." Jackson said defensively. He closed the card and held it against his chest.

Stiles glanced at Scott, noticed tension draining out of his shoulders. Stiles really wanted to know what was in that card. His thoughts were interrupted by Lydia clearing her throat.

"Okay, Stiles," she said, "That means it's your turn."

Stiles grinned, stood up and walked to the middle of the circle carrying a large box wrapped in white and neon green, a large green bow on the top. He held it out towards Allison. She stood up, but didn't meet him in the middle. She pointed to the mistletoe above his head.

"I figured I'd collect kisses from everyone, you know, to complete the set," Stiles joked.

Allison glanced at Scott who shrugged; he had a silly grin on his face though. Stiles turned to Derek, watched his shoulders shake with silent laughter. Stiles set the box down on the ground to the side. He held out his hand and Allison took it. He twirled her around so her back was to his chest, arm around her waist.

"I see you've been continuing practicing your dance moves."

"It's how I keep this rocking ass body looking so good." Stiles wasn't sure he liked how everyone chuckled at that. He shrugged it off, brought his other hand up to tilt Allison's head back so he could place his lips gently over hers. Her lips were soft like Lydia's had been, but where Lydia was confidant and bold, Allison was playful and teasing. He tried to be serious about it, but before they knew it they were both laughing, foreheads resting against each other.

"So creepy," Stiles said.

"Agreed, that was like kissing the brother I never had," Allison confirmed.

Stiles picked up the box and handed it to her; she took it and moved to sit back down next to Scott. Stiles settled in Derek's lap to watch Allison open the present. Derek pulled his head back to place a gentle kiss on his lips before letting him go. Stiles grinned, apparently he didn't need to try as hard to clear Allison's kiss from his lips, probably because Stiles had laughed during it.

She opened the card on the outside. "To Allison," she said, "From Stiles. Though I know a true friend can never be replaced once they're gone, sometimes finding a new friend can help fill the hole they've left behind."

Allison glanced at Stiles, curiosity in her eyes. Stiles grinned at her. She shook her head and opened the box. She squealed with delight as she pulled a white stuffed teddy bear out of the box. The bear was wearing a black hoody and had a small sticky note attached to its paw. She pulled the note off and read it to the group, "Please love me, cherish me, and above all please don't tase me ladybro." She smiled at him across the circle; they gave each other a thumbs-up at the same time.

The pack spent the rest of the night eating all the food they'd brought; Stiles's cookies were devoured with great fervor. There were no more mistletoe mistakes, and everyone helped clean up the mess they'd made. More than once everyone except for Allison added more money into the donations jar, at the end of the night she dropped in a twenty dollar bill. She must have felt guilty that she was the only one who didn't break any of Lydia's _'Laws of Christmas_' aside from the time that everyone got charged watching Stiles kiss Jackson.

Derek held his hand as they waved goodbye to the rest of the pack and made their way to Derek's car. Stiles was bouncing excitedly, high on the sugar, the gifts, the laughter, and the closeness with his pack. Derek opened the car door for him, but before he got inside he turned and looked into Derek's eyes. "So," he said, "Was I good enough to get my _really,_ _really_ special gift tonight?" He watched as Derek seemed to consider the idea, thought he could help sway Derek's opinion with a gentle peck on the lips. Derek grinned down at him.

"I don't know," he said, "I guess we'll have to go home and check to see if Santa left you anything under the tree."

Stiles scoffed at Derek, but let his boyfriend push him into the passenger seat of the car. Derek was such a tease, Stiles loved it. Derek opened the driver's side door of the car and climbed in.

"Hey Derek," Stiles said, "Just so you know, I got you a special gift too."

"Oh really?" Derek asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

"Yep, I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Stiles teased.

Derek gripped Stiles's hand and squeezed lightly, letting their hands rest on Stiles's leg. "I've already got everything I want for Christmas," Derek said, "But I'll more than happily inspect whatever it is you want to show me when we get home."

"Pervert," Stiles said as he reached into the small bag on the floor between his legs and pulled out a candy cane. He pulled the plastic off it and ran his tongue around the delicious peppermint goodness. He didn't look at Derek as he ate the treat, didn't comment on Derek's grip tightening or the increased speed of the car. He just enjoyed it, and tried to guess as to what it was that Derek was going to give him once they got home.


	5. Secret Message

Jackson's eyes widened when Scott offered him the card. He wasn't sure what to think as he tore the envelope open, tried to hide the slight shaking of his hands. This thing between them was always right under the surface of his mind, pulling at the edges of his thoughts. He loved Lydia, they weren't as physically affectionate in public as the other two couples in the pack, but that didn't invalidate what they had. They'd overcome a lot, she meant a lot to him, but Scott, Scott was something different.

The front of the card was a panoramic landscape view of a forest covered in snow, a bridge over a river that had turned to ice. He opened the card, two tickets to a hockey game slipped out. He didn't even glance to see what the teams were, or the date because his eyes immediately locked onto a sprawling, awkwardly crafted hand written message. It filled all the way from one side of the card's opening to the other. The stock greeting message in the middle of the one side had been blacked out with a permanent marker.

Scott's handwriting was cramped, he'd tried to fit a lot into the card, and he'd clearly spent a lot of time on it. Jackson could smell Scott's scent all over it, his hands most have brushed over it again and again as he worked on the message, even right next to the fire, surrounded by the smells of food and his pack, Jackson could easily pick it out.

_Jackson,_

_I'm not very good at this cause I'm not really good at talking about stuff. Or writing stuff or whatever. So I hope this makes sense._

_I wanted you to know that I know. Maybe even if I've never said anything about it I know. I see you watching me, at practice, at school, at lunch. Sometimes I can smell it when you've been outside my house even though you never knock and you never ask to come in or hang out._

_I wanted you to know that I feel it, and I watch you too. I don't know what it means, but it makes me feel good when you're around. You make me want to try harder. I know how hard you work to be good at everything, even though you're already good at everything._

_I feel guilty sometimes, because even though I love Allison, sometimes I'm awake at night, I'm sitting on the floor or unable to fall asleep in my bed and I think. I think about you. How you smell, how strong you are. I think about all of that and I wonder if maybe, in another life, if we could have something the way Derek and Stiles have their thing. I hope that doesn't make you hate me or gross you out or whatever._

_I really want to go with you to this game, but I'll understand if you want to take Lydia or Danny or one of your actual friends instead of me. I just want you to be happy, you don't smile very often, you don't laugh very often, but when you do it's like sunshine breaking through the clouds._

_God that was dumb sounding. Whatever. I just wanted you to know more than anything, I see you, I see it, and I know it's there in you. It's in me too; I just don't know what to do about it._

_Scott_

Jackson hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath. He released his lower lip from his teeth. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, hoping no one saw.

"Two tickets to a hockey game," he said. "Thanks man."

He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, not sure what to do next. Scott's voice cut through his thoughts, brushed along the raw ends of his emotions that he hadn't gotten back into check. He could hear Scott's heartbeat thudding nervously, pistoning in his chest.

"I figured you and Danny could go, or whoever," Scott mumbled.

Jackson wondered if Scott knew what his heartbeat sounded like, if he had heard it tremble at the words. Six beats in the room, he didn't know which was Allison's, which belonged to Stiles, or even Derek's, but Jackson knew Lydia's, and he knew Scott's, and they were the two sounds he loved more than anything else. Everything Scott put in the letter was true; he didn't know what it was either, only that it was there, between them, the thing that they couldn't name and that never seemed to fully fade away.

"What's the card say?" Lydia tried to lean over to look at it.

"I-it doesn't say anything, just a regular card, you know, to Jackson, from Scott." Jackson said trying to not sound too defensive. He closed the card and held it against his chest. The rapid-fire thud of Scott's heartbeat leveled out, became the strong and even thump it usually was.

The hockey game was awesome, but just knowing that Scott knew, knowing that Scott saw something in him, felt something, that was better. Having gotten to kiss Scott, even if it was under the mistletoe because of Lydia's rules and the Holiday season, the fact that Scott was the one who initiated it, wouldn't let Jackson back out of it, that's what really made his night.

Jackson laughed more, smiled more, and enjoyed everything about their Christmas party a little bit more because of Scott's card, because of Scott's presence. It didn't matter if they couldn't say it, it was there, and that was enough. It was enough for now, to get him through this night and on to the next, where they would be at the end he didn't care. Allison, Derek, and Stiles, Lydia, and especially Scott, they were going to do it together, everything together, because they were a pack, and that's what packs did.


	6. The Little Things Matter

Stiles fidgeted as Derek got out of the car. He wanted to jump out and run up to the building so that they could start opening their presents, but he knew that Derek liked to open the door for him and he liked to make Derek happy. It took Derek a small eternity to walk to the other side of the Camaro. Stiles tapped his foot impatiently. Didn't Derek understand how important presents were?

The door opened, but before he could turn in his seat to hop out, Derek crouched down and leaned into the car. He reached down between Stiles's legs to pick up the bag between his feet so he wouldn't have to carry it. Stiles closed his legs, trapping Derek's forearm with his knees. His boyfriend tilted his head and looked at him with a curious smile.

"Nope, I'm on to you, Sour Wolf," Stiles said. "You just want a sneak peak at the presents I've been hiding in here."

Derek leaned in, captured Stiles's mouth, but made no effort to pull his hand and the bag free from Stiles's legs. He kissed Derek back with fervor, gasping a little breathlessly as Derek seemingly tried to lick all of the residual peppermint flavor out of his mouth from the candy cane he'd eaten on the way home.

"Maybe I just wanted an excuse to be between your legs?" Derek said once he pulled back from their kiss. He had a teasing smile on his face.

"Not fooling me," Stiles said. He crossed his arms over his chest. "I know that you think you can get between my legs whenever you want so I know that's not it."

Derek leered at him and licked his lips. Stiles turned his face away; he couldn't watch Derek make sex faces without blushing. He shivered when Derek kissed the back of his head.

"Let's go inside. I want to watch you open your presents," Derek said. "And I want some hot chocolate, how about you?"

Derek was evil, in all the wonderful senses of the word. He parted his legs to free Derek's arm. The werewolf withdrew without trying to take the bag again. Stiles was very pleased as he grabbed the bag from the floor and hopped out of the car. Derek closed the door and wrapped a possessive arm around his shoulders as they walked towards the door to his apartment, or condo, or whatever the building was officially called. Stiles waited impatiently for Derek to unlock the door.

"I can stay here tonight right? My dad already said it was fine." Stiles was nervous, he didn't really think that Derek would say no, but for some reason he was occasionally hit by moments where he was afraid that Derek was going to come to his senses and realize that there was no reason he should be with a stupid high school kid who couldn't focus on anything for more than a few minutes.

Derek let go of the keys in the door, didn't even finish unlocking it. Stiles was looking away at the bushes next to the side of the pathway they were standing on that led up to the front of the building. He felt Derek's hands take his shoulder and turn him so that he was facing the older man, felt Derek's warm hand tilt his head up so that he was looking up into Derek's eyes.

"You can stay here whenever you want," Derek said. He kissed Stiles's nose and pulled him into a hug. Stiles could barely breath it was so tight. It was perfect. "Don't be nervous, I'm not going anywhere. I'm not letting you go anywhere. I want you to think about this place as a second home for you, our home."

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek's waist and turned his face into Derek's chest. Derek could have gotten him a stocking filled with coal as long as he kept saying things like that, kept holding onto him so tightly.

"Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"You didn't get me a stocking filled with coal, right? I've been good." Stiles had meant to say something else, but he really didn't want a stocking filled with coal.Sometimes he thought his brain went stupid on purpose just to frustrate him.

Derek laughed and kissed the top of his head. "I don't know," he said. "I guess you'll have to find out." Derek paused for a moment before continuing to unlock the door. "Where's your overnight bag?"

"I've got a toothbrush and stuff in this bag," Stiles said as he swished the bag in his hands.

"What about clothes?"

Stiles blushed. "Did I need those? I thought maybe I'd just—"

"You wanted to borrow some of mine for the little bit of time you'd need them," Derek said. "Or you didn't think you'd need clothes at all?"

Stiles's ears were red, he knew they were. "A little bit of both I guess. I just like wearing your clothes. It's like… it's like you're all around me when I do. I may not have wolf senses but even my silly human nose can smell you on your clothes, and I like it when that smell is on me."

Derek made a tiny little growl of approval that went right to Stiles's tummy. "Let's get inside," Derek said as he finally finished unlocking and opening the door. Stiles was all about that plan. Derek held the door open and gestured for him to walk inside. Stiles almost tripped over the threshold, his brain was fogged over with excitement. He had offered to meet Derek rather than wait to for him to come pick him up, but he'd been told that Derek had a surprise at his place and didn't want Stiles to see it until after the party.

"So, you make the hot chocolate while I put presents in the living room on the table?" He let Derek pull his coat off to hang it in the hallway closet.

Derek took his hand and led him towards the living room. "You can put them under the tree," Derek said. "I figured you'd want one."

Stiles's mouth fell open as he walked into the living room. Derek had rearranged everything. He had an electric fireplace that the couch and a coffee table normally sat in front of. All of that stuff was arranged against the walls near the bookshelves. To the left of the fireplace there was a miniature Christmas tree, it was about half as tall as Stiles. There were wrapped presents resting underneath it. On the floor directly in front of the fireplace there were pillows, cushions, and blankets set up like a miniature fort, parts of it were attached to various pieces of furniture to hold it steady. Stiles loved it.

"Derek," Stiles said as he turned and wrapped his arms around Derek's waist. "It's perfect."

Derek leaned down and kissed him again, a quick and gentle brushing of lips. "Put the presents under the tree, then we'll change and I'll show you our fort." Derek brushed his hands over Stiles's short hair. "Don't tell anyone, but I was a little jealous we didn't have a fort of our own."

Stiles grinned, got up on the tips of his toes and pulled Derek down into another kiss. "It's awesome." Stiles said. "It would have been enough of a present on its own."

"I don't know about that," Derek said. "It'll probably get torn down when I give you your final present of the night."

Stiles blinked in confusion for a second. "What do you… oh… _Oh_!"

Derek laughed. "Come on, let's change and get the hot cocoa."

Stiles grinned, Derek saying the word 'cocoa' was hilariously adorable. "Say it again."

"Say what?"

"Cocoa," Stiles said. "Say it again."

Derek laughed. "Cocoa".

"God you're adorable."

Derek flicked him in the nose. Stiles gaped. He pushed Derek, but Derek didn't budge at all, if he was being honest with himself, Stiles would have to admit that he might have been the one who moved backwards a little.

"I'm not adorable," Derek huffed.

Stiles laughed, that was adorable too. Derek growled at him. Stiles laughed harder. Derek frowned, Stiles laughed even harder because Derek probably thought he was scowling, but it was just pouting. Derek stepped closer then suddenly grabbed him and spun him against the wall. Stiles laughed again even though Derek tried to snarl at him and act threatening. Derek's mouth hung open in shock for a moment before he started pouting again.

"I'm not scary at all anymore?"

"It's just…" Stiles chuckled a little, "I'm not really scared of your wolf hugs anymore. Most of the time it's just hot, but right now, I can't stop laughing."

"Wolf hugs?" Derek frowned again.

Stiles leaned forward since Derek's forearm across his chest wasn't really holding him to the wall very hard and kissed Derek on the nose. He grinned as Derek's mouth opened and closed soundlessly.

"Yeah, I know all you werewolves have trouble with your words, so sometimes you just need to slam each other about to show your affection. I love it when you slam me about," Stiles said.

Derek's eyes got wider and wider during his explanation. "But, you're supposed to be scared of me sometimes. That's my advantage."

Stiles grinned and poked Derek in the stomach. "Nope, I have all the advantages. That's who I am, Stiles, advantage guy."

Derek leaned forward slowly. Stiles blinked at him as he got closer. Derek stepped between his legs, and nosed against his neck. Stiles grunted in surprise at the friction suddenly applied to his groin, then gasped when Derek's tongue darted across his throat. Stiles was starting to get interested, his dick perking up at the sudden shift in mood. Derek nipped him with a little more force than was normal and Stiles covered his mouth to muffle the tiny little whine that Derek dragged out of him. Derek pulled back suddenly and Stiles stumbled forward blinking in confusion.

"Nope, looks like I still have one," Derek said. "Now, how about that hot _cocoa_."

Derek was evil, in all the horrible senses of the word. Stiles huffed as he adjusted his now lonely dick into a better position. He was only slightly vindicated at the possessive smoldering look in Derek's eyes when he had his hand on himself.

Stiles decided to not talk to Derek as punishment for his crimes. He walked around the werewolf and pulled the presents out of the bag he was still holding and placed them under the tree. All that was left in the bag was candy canes. He hung a few of them on the branches of the miniature Christmas tree.

"How many marshmallows do you want in your cocoa?" Derek's voice drifted from the kitchen. Stiles clapped his hand over his mouth to keep from responding. Derek wasn't going to get off that easy this time, it didn't matter how many marshmallows he had. "They're the little mini ones you like," Derek said.

Stiles bit his knuckle, mini-marshmallows were delicious, and if the improper amount were used it could be catastrophic. Stiles had watched in forlorn dismay as Scott over enthusiastically ruined many a cup of hot chocolate over the years.

"I've also got whipped cream do you want some of that?"

Stiles's spine started tingling at the memories of whipped cream and strawberries, of sausage links and beds and Derek's lips and it was not fair. Derek wasn't playing nicely. "Sevmphh," Stiles mumbled around the knuckle in his mouth.

"Okay I couldn't even understand that with supernatural hearing," Derek said as he stuck his head back into the living room. "Use your words."

"S-E-V-E-N," Stiles said after pulling his hand out of his mouth, "Seven is the appropriate number of mini-marshmallows for the average sized cup of hot cocoa."

Derek blinked at him confused momentarily at the exact science of his answer, but then grinned as he pulled a gigantic coffee mug out from behind his back. It was blue, with '_Stiles_' written on it in white lettering. "How about for this, how many mini-marshmallows for this sized cup of cocoa?"

Stiles didn't squeal at the site of the cup. He simply announced his happiness. If it was a little high pitched and he'd jumped a bit when he did it that was just an expression of his manly enthusiasm. He eyed the cup, assessing the amount of fluid it would probably hold. "Let's start with eleven, it's conservative I know, but better to build up rather than over saturate. Some things require a bit of experimentation to get right," Stiles said as he walked over to join Derek in the kitchen.

Derek was blinking at him again; apparently he didn't know it was conservative to use eleven mini-marshmallows in a cup of that size. Stiles patted his back consolingly; it must have been a scary thing to grow up without having learned the appropriate portions of deliciousness. Derek raised an eyebrow at him but didn't ask. It was probably better that way. Stiles was too interested in opening presents and drinking cocoa to teach Derek the delicate and exact science of chemistry.

Stiles grinned as Derek counted the number of marshmallows he dropped into the cup to make sure it was the number Stiles wanted. When Derek was finished and pushed the cup towards him, Stiles took a candy cane out of the bag he still had, unwrapped it and used it to stir the cocoa.

Derek gave him a curious look, but Stiles just said, "Don't knock it till you try it." He watched Derek fix himself a cup of the hot chocolate too, adding the same amount of marshmallows as he had to Stiles's. He had a matching mug but his was reversed in colors, it was white with '_Derek_' written out in blue. Stiles loved it too. Derek took the whip cream out of the refrigerator and gestured towards Stiles with it. Stiles blushed. Derek grinned and added some of it to the top of his cup of hot chocolate.

"You want some of this?" Derek raised an eyebrow at him. Stiles did, he very much did. He kissed Derek, licked against his lips when Derek made a surprised noise against his mouth. Derek chuckled and pushed him away lightly. "I meant the whip cream, on your hot chocolate, did you want any?"

Stiles shrugged, stirred his drink with the candy cane. "Maybe," he said. "Is it good?"

Derek held out his glass so that Stiles could take a sip. Stiles grinned. He took a drink, it was delicious. Eleven had been the right number of marshmallows. Derek leaned closer to him and licked a trace of whip cream that must have still been on his mouth. Either that or Derek was just using that as an excuse to get himself another taste of Stiles's lips. He was cool with it either way.

"I'm okay on the whip cream," Stiles said. If he had any on his he'd get it all over his hands and face, and while Derek would be diligent in getting it off for him they'd never get to open their presents if they went down that road.

"Do I get to try yours?" Derek eyeed the cup in Stiles's hands with the candy cane in it. Stiles held it out for him the same way Derek had done. He grinned as Derek leaned in and took an experimental sip, then laughed as his eyes got wide. "That's amazing."

Stiles winked at him and pulled the last candy cane that he hadn't hung on the tree out of the bag in his hand after setting his mug on the counter. He unwrapped it for Derek, and although he didn't need to, he licked it once before dropping it into Derek's hot chocolate. For all he knew it was the taste of Stiles on the candy cane and not the peppermint flavor that Derek thought was amazing. He figured he should try to strive for full authenticity. The grin on Derek's face made it seem like he agreed.

"Ok, so as Allison said earlier, can it be present time?" Stiles was finished with waiting. Waiting was bullshit. Presents were awesome.

"No," Derek said. "First we need to get you out of those clothes and into some of mine."

"Oh really? Are you going to help me with the undressing and redressing."

"I'm really only a helping with the undressing part kind of guy." Derek set his mug on the counter, and pulled Stiles into a hug. Stiles didn't protest when Derek turned him around, tucked his hands into the back pockets of Stiles's pants, and steered him towards the bedroom.

'_We are not about to have sex we are not about to have sex we are not about to have sex,'_ Stiles desperately thought to his dick that was getting the wrong idea.

"I know. We're going to open presents," Derek said.

Stiles gasped; once again his inner monologue had gone public without him realizing it. Derek kissed the back of his neck as they got into the bedroom. "Can I wear your black sweatshirt?"

Derek tilted his head to the side, whether he was considering the question or wasn't sure what shirt Stiles meant wasn't obvious. Stiles turned and opened Derek's closet, pulled the sweatshirt he was talking about off the hangar, it had a white Celtic knot pattern on the back.

"You can wear whatever you want," Derek said as he pulled the shirt he was wearing off and dropped it into the laundry basket.

"Can you wear whatever I want too?"

Derek laughed. "No, if I did that I'd be naked and cold."

"I could keep you warm," Stiles said as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Derek bonked him on the head. Stiles's mouth dropped open. Derek had just bonked him, curled up his hand in a fist, and tapped it on the top of Stiles's head. Derek was now officially ridiculous.

The look on his face just seemed to make Derek laugh more. Stiles couldn't help but smile. Sometimes he was shocked when he heard Derek laugh. Sure, he heard him chuckle here and there, but that full belly shaking laugh was so rare. Stiles wanted to record it every time it happened so that he could play it back when he was home alone in his room at his father's house wishing Derek was in bed with him.

Well, wishing he was in a bigger bed with Derek. Whenever they slept at his house Stiles had to sleep on top of Derek, which was good, except that when he tried to go to sleep sprawled out over Derek like that, the werewolf would never let him sleep. He just kept rubbing, stroking, and kissing. Stiles had human stamina that wasn't inexhaustible no matter how many people made jokes about teenage boys always being ready for sex. He was a growing boy. He needed his sleep.

As far as mornings went, they were even worse. Derek seemed to always be awake before him, always knew when Stiles had morning wood; it was like the smell of it could wake Derek up no matter how tired the werewolf was. Stiles didn't want to sound ungrateful, because he was so utterly grateful, but sometimes he just wanted to sleep in instead of waking up to Derek nosing into his crotch. He thought about that, no, he was a liar; he'd rather wake up every morning for the rest of his life with Derek nosing into him. If he could only get him on a schedule where he did it a couple of hours later in the morning.

"You're having sex thoughts," Derek said. He was still shirtless and poking around in his dresser not looking at Stiles. Stiles stared at Derek's naked back and licked his lips, trailing his eyes down to Derek's ass. "It's getting worse." Derek looked over his shoulder.

Stiles coughed and turned away. He took his shirt off then pulled Derek's sweatshirt over his head. He took a deep breath, it smelled so good. He looked over his shoulder just in time to see Derek pulling a pair of pajama pants over his naked ass. No underwear, that meant he'd easily be able to see the outline of Derek's junk in those pants. There was no way he was going to be able to focus on presents. He thought about asking Derek to help him out a little, take the edge off before they settled in for presents, but if he did he knew it'd just make Derek refuse so that he'd be worked up by the time they got down to business.

He sighed, he was so unlucky sometimes, and then undid his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. Stiles gasped as he felt Derek's hand gently pat the back of his ass. He hadn't heard Derek close the distance between them. He still wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Hey, hey, hey there handsy," Stiles said, hopping away from Derek's pawing. "Keep your head in the game, we've got presents!"

Stiles blushed; Derek was staring at his crotch. "Those are new," Derek said, eyes focused below Stiles's waist.

"Maybe you've just never seen them before, unless you've gone through my underwear drawer like a pervert," Stiles said.

Derek leered at him again, but didn't acknowledge or deny if he had done such a thing. Stiles looked down at his lower body, tugging the sweatshirt up out of the way so he could get a better view. He was wearing black boxers that had a white smiley face on them, its red tongue licking its lips. The tongue was more or less right over his naughty bits. His dick stirred a little bit at all the attention it was suddenly getting, but it wasn't quite sure if it was go time.

Stiles gasped as Derek reached out and rubbed his hand across Stiles's exposed stomach, fingers gently dipping beneath the waistband of his boxers. "Presents, it's time for presents right now," Derek said.

Stiles leaned into Derek's touch, stumbled a little when Derek suddenly turned away. Apparently Derek had meant presents when he said presents and not blowjobs. He patted his junk in apology at the confusion.

"You're not wearing a shirt? I'm not wearing pants? Is that how we're doing presents?" Stiles started padding barefoot into the hall after Derek. He loved the feeling of the carpet on his toes.

"Don't want to waste time with them later," Derek called out from the living room.

Stiles fist pumped the air before joining him. He walked over to the front of the blanket fort in time to see Derek's ass wiggle as he crawled inside. It took his breath away.

"You want to open the presents inside there?"

"Yeah," Derek said. "Just hand them to me then get your ass in here and cuddle with me, I've already got our hot chocolate in here. Well, I have our pretty warm chocolate anyway."

Derek was the ultimate boyfriend, while Stiles was having a make believe conversation with his man parts, Derek was busy setting up a wonderful evening, maybe Stiles was really the pervert in their relationship. He laughed when Derek's hands came out of the front of the fort and made little grabby motions waiting for Stiles to put the presents in his hands.

"Ok," Stiles said. "Just a sec."

Stiles knelt down on the ground in front of the tree and started picking up packages to hand to Derek. There was no way he was going to give Derek the ones he'd gotten for him first. He barely resisted the urge to shake and listen to the presents he handed to Derek to try to figure out what they were. Most of them were heavy and solid; the one was obviously some article of clothing. He was starting to feel bad, he'd only gotten Derek two things, but one of them he'd spent a lot of time on, and the other one was pretty personal. He hoped it evened out. He was starting to feel like a shitty boyfriend.

He hugged the two presents he got for Derek to his chest and shimmied under the blanket door to the fort as Derek held it open for him. He set the two presents down and started to sit down across from Derek, but before he got comfortable Derek reached out and pulled him forward. He sighed but let Derek arrange him how we wanted, Stiles sitting between Derek's outstretched legs he leaned against one of the walls of the blanket fort that must have been against the couch or wall. It was hard to tell from inside what was where. He loved that it was so warm inside with the opening pointed right at the electric fireplace. He leaned back onto Derek's naked chest and smiled when Derek kissed his neck.

"Okay, this is how we're going to do this," Derek said. "I'm going to watch you open all your presents first." Stiles started to interrupt him, but before he could Derek covered his mouth with his hand. Biting at the werewolf's fingers didn't seem to bother or distract him at all. Neither did licking against his palm. "Then, after you're done, I'll do whatever you want that doesn't involve sex, and then I'll give you the last present, the special one, for being everything that I've ever wanted and being good tonight."

Stiles stopped struggling as Derek spoke; his eyes got all wet by the end of it. He tilted his head back and around when Derek let go of his face. "Okay, we'll do it your way," Stiles said. He got a kiss for acquiescing.

Derek grabbed one of the packages from the pile next to him and set it down on the ground between Stiles's legs. It was one of the heavier and bigger ones. Stiles rubbed his hands together in excitement before picking it up and starting to tear the paper off. Derek's weight shifted under him slightly as he reached to take a drink of his hot chocolate.

Stiles finished pulling the paper free from what turned out to be a book. It was fairly old looking, there was an old artist's rendering of a werewolf on it. He flipped the book open, there was an inscription on the inside cover along with a DVD. He glanced at the DVD curiously, but read the writing on the inside; it was in Derek's handwriting.

_Stiles,_

_For your curiosity_

_Love,_  
><em>Derek<em>

"The DVD has notes about which parts of the book are correct and which parts are junk," Derek said. "I didn't want to highlight in the book because it's old." The werewolf rubbed his hands over Stiles's arms. Stiles turned his head back for another kiss. Derek placed another package in front of him as he took the wrapping from the first and pushed it into a small plastic bag he'd brought into the fort with them.

"That's really awesome Derek," Stiles said. He was starting to think his presents weren't good enough. He reached out for the new one Derek had put in front of him. He tore off the paper to reveal another book. The next two were more books. They were all about werewolves. It was amazing, he'd seen one or two of them in the past, and some of them were completely new to him.

"The DVD has notes for all the books. It's not like a table of contents or anything, it's not fancy, I just typed out the page numbers and sections or whatever," Derek said, like somehow it wasn't the most amazing thing ever. Stiles was floored. He never thought Derek would go through so much trouble, would trust Stiles enough to even give him all that information.

"It's awesome, they're all awesome, you're awesome," Stiles said. He should have tried harder on Derek's presents. He took a drink of his now very pepperminty hot chocolate. It was awesome too. The fort was awesome. The blankets were awesome. The only thing that wasn't awesome was how much this was better than what Stiles had planned. Derek kissed the back of his head again, because Derek was awesome despite that fact that Stiles was not awesome. Stiles was starting to think he needed a new word other than awesome.

"Last one, this one is my favorite," Derek said. Stiles swallowed nervously. He really was a terrible boyfriend, especially if this last thing was better than all the books.

"Is this the special present you promised?" Stiles hoped that it was, he wasn't going to be able to compete with even more.

"Nope," Derek said. Stiles could tell he was smiling by the way his voice sounded. Derek leaned forward and rested his chin on Stiles's shoulder so he could watch him unwrap the present. Stiles shivered when Derek kissed behind his ear. "That's something more special."

Stiles chewed his lower lip nervously as he reached out a shaky hand to pick up the last gift. It was the one that he thought was some type of clothing. He hoped it was silly and ridiculous, like a costume for sex or something. He didn't know what he'd do if it was something personal and thoughtful and wonderful.

Derek's arms wrapped around his waist, pulled him back across the floor a little bit to hold onto him tightly as he started to pull the paper off the gift. It was something made out of white cotton. He pulled the paper all the way off to reveal a simple white hooded sweatshirt. Stiles grinned. That was cool.

"Turn it over," Derek said. His voice was full of soft excitement. Stiles swallowed nervously again, he turned it over. On the back, in electric blue was the image of the triskele. The same one that was on Derek's back. It was the same one that had been on the white vest he'd worn the night of the rave. The vest that had been torn up and ruined by Derek's claws the night he'd gone insane. It was perfect. Nothing he had was as good as that gift. He sniffled a little and scrubbed his hand across his face.

"Seeing you in that vest, with my mark on your back, it made me realize how much I wanted you. I hope it's not too painful a memory for you. You saw me being a monster, but somehow, even after everything was over, you still loved me," Derek whispered. Stiles leaned back into Derek, but covered his hands with his face. He was crying softly. Derek ran soothing hands over his stomach, patted him gently trying to calm him down. "If you don't like it I'd understand," Derek said.

"You're stupid." A little hiccupping sob came out of Stiles's mouth. "It's perfect. You're perfect."

Derek kept patting him gently, kissed the side of his head and neck. Stiles felt so stupid, he was crying like a little kid. He hated himself. Derek deserved someone more mature, more awesome. Derek didn't say anything, just let him cry for a little while then offered him a small handful of napkins. He hiccupped again and used them to wipe his face off before dropping them into the bag of trash. Stiles wanted to throw his gifts in the trash too, he wanted to tell Derek they were just a joke and his real presents just hadn't arrived yet. Derek pulled one arm up from Stiles's waist and stroked it through his hair soothingly.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah," Stiles said, even though he knew Derek would know it for the lie it was.

"I'm sorry if this stuff wasn't what you wanted," Derek said. "I should have got you that Xbox motion detecting video game box, but your dad told me he'd hunt me down if I did because he thought you'd break everything in the living room playing with it."

Stiles laughed. Derek was so stupid. He thought Stiles was upset because his gifts weren't good enough? He leaned forward a little and then bumped his back against Derek's chest trying to knock the wind out of him. Derek didn't even grunt, Stiles felt like he'd smashed his back into a living wall of muscle, which made sense cause that's pretty much what he'd just done. "Don't be dumb. They're perfect. I just…" he paused, didn't know how to go on.

Derek just rubbed his fingers through Stiles's hair some more. It felt good; Derek always knew what to do to make him feel better. He sighed; he might as well get it over with. He leaned forward and grabbed the smaller of the two presents; he figured he'd lead with the best one to try to make Derek happy. He offered it over his shoulder. Derek took it with the hand that had been stroking his hair.

Stiles felt Derek sit up straighter behind him, then he was being pulled backwards by the arm around his waist. Derek seemed to want to open the gift while wrapped around Stiles, leaning over his shoulder as he unwrapped it in Stiles's lap. He tilted his head against the side of Derek's face. Let the rise and fall of Derek's breathing gently rock him forwards and backwards.

Derek pulled the wrapping off the paper, dropping it onto the blankets underneath them, between Stiles's legs. Underneath all the paper there was a large black box. Derek opened it to reveal two bracelets. They were black leather that had been threaded through multiple small seashells. At the tops of the bracelets there were little gleaming metal plates with an engraving on each one. Both the plates were the same even though one of the bracelets was smaller, meant for a smaller wrist. Derek pulled the larger one out and tilted it so he could see the inscription. There was a stylized uppercase '_D_' with a stylized uppercase '_S_'. The top of the 'S' had been placed so the swerve at the top wrapped around and through the bottom of the 'D'.

Derek took a deep breath; it expanded his chest enough that it rocked Stiles forward a little bit more. Derek ran his fingers over the shells of various sizes on the bracelet. The jeweler had used almost all the shells he'd found on the beach other than the one he'd let Derek keep, the one Stiles had cut his hand open on. There were only a few of the larger ones left. They were still at home on his dresser, arranged around the picture of his mother he'd taken on their trip just the same way Derek had put them on their nightstand at the house on the beach.

Stiles held his breath when Derek didn't say anything. He felt dumb. Not only did he not have a great gift, but half of it was for him. He'd had matching bracelets with the first letters of their names inscribed on them. It wasn't even like platinum or whatever, it was just metal. He thought it was steel. He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember because he was a terrible boyfriend. Derek set the bigger bracelet back in the box and took the smaller one out. Stiles finally let out the breath he was holding and took another. Derek set the box down on the floor between Stiles's legs, used the hand that wasn't holding the bracelet to grab Stiles's wrist. Derek fit the bracelet over Stiles's hand and tilted his head on Stiles's shoulder to see it better.

"They're beautiful," Derek said. "They're perfect."

Stiles started breathing normally again. Derek let Stiles put the larger bracelet on his right wrist. The smaller one was on Stiles's left. Derek normally walked on Stiles's left side, holding his left hand. This way, the bracelets would be close to each other. He thought it had been cute at the time, but next to what Derek had done it seemed dumb. Seashells, he was such an idiot. Derek kissed the side of his neck again. Stiles shivered at the feel of Derek's lips and tilted his head against Derek's again.

"This is amazing," Derek said. "You're amazing."

Stiles lightly pushed his elbow into Derek's stomach. "Whatever," Stiles said. "It was dumb. I should have thought of something different."

Derek reached out with the hand his bracelet was on and used it to tilt Stiles's head back. Stiles looked into Derek's eyes. He thought that there might have been traces of wetness in them. Derek leaned forward and kissed him hard enough that it took Stiles's breath away.

"Don't do that," Derek said after releasing him.

"Don't do what?"

"Don't act like the things you do don't mean anything. Don't act like you're not the most thoughtful person anyone you know has ever met. Don't ever think that you're anything but amazing," Derek said and kissed him again. "No one, and I mean _no one_ gets to put my boyfriend down, especially not you."

Stiles felt giddy, he wanted to laugh. Derek had just called him '_boyfriend_' for the first time. He kissed Derek again even though his neck was starting to ache from being at such a strained angle. It didn't matter, Derek mattered. Derek loving his Christmas present mattered. Derek not thinking he was a stupid kid mattered. Those were the only things that did matter.

"I can't wait to see the second one," Derek said.

Stiles stomach dropped away again. The second one, the one that wasn't even as good as the seashell bracelets, that was going to be a problem. He sighed as he grabbed the long and thick rectangular package. Derek adjusted Stiles again so that Derek was able to lean forward against his back again. Stiles's shirt had gotten rucked up a bit and he could feel the heat of Derek's abdomen against the small of his back.

Derek tore the paper off to reveal what was very obviously a photo album, or maybe it was a scrapbook. He didn't really know the difference between them. On the front it said _'You and Me and All of Us'_.

Derek flipped the book open to look at the first page and gasped. There were pictures of Derek when he was a child. Some of them were him in school pictures; one was of him in a tiny football jersey. There was one of him that was a mug shot, but you couldn't really see his face because of his werewolf laser beam eyes.

"How did you?"

"Shhh, just wait. I'll tell you after you look through it," Stiles said. He stroked Derek's arms and the backs of his hands as Derek turned to the next page. There were pictures of Derek's family. His sister Laura as a child, school pictures, pictures of the two of them together with their parents and pictures with just them by themselves. Derek had stopped breathing. Stiles was worried and rubbed his arms soothingly. He felt something wet fall on the skin where his neck met his shoulder. He felt Derek's body tremble behind him. Was Derek crying? That was even rarer than the laughter. Stiles hoped it was a good cry and not a bad cry. There wasn't any enraged wolf monster gnawing through his back so he had to assume it was good.

"How did you?"

That was the last of the Hale pictures, though the next page was blank. Stiles had pictures of Peter, but he didn't know if Derek would have wanted them in there. Stiles didn't know if Derek ever thought about the person Peter was before he'd become a bad guy. Someday, when it wasn't so emotional, he'd ask him about it.

" I might have bribed Danny and taken him to the police station. I might have caused a distraction while he accessed government databases and files and search engines to pull pictures off the net of you and your family. I mean, it could have gone down like that," Stiles said.

There was no way he was going to tell Derek that he may have used a couple of not exactly naughty but still mostly unclothed Derek pictures he'd taken with his phone during pack training exercises and while Derek was asleep or getting dressed to bribe Danny into delving back into his criminal roots. Some things were better left unsaid. Things like that. Some of the pictures he'd been able to find on his own, Google was the bomb, but his e-stalking skills were nowhere near the level of professionalism that Danny had.

Stiles reached down and grabbed some of the napkins and offered them over his shoulder to Derek without commenting on Derek's tears. He knew that Derek wouldn't want him to see him like that so he didn't turn around either. Derek, after seemingly having cleaned himself up kissed Stiles's neck again.

"What did you use to bribe Danny?" Derek asked in a way that kind of made it seem like he already knew.

"Oh look," Stiles said. "There's more pages in this book, let's see what's on them."

Derek grunted in a very knowing way as he turned the page. He didn't comment on the blank one, but glanced at the next. That one had pictures of Stiles as a child. Pictures of him in school, in a little soccer uniform, and even one of him looking like he was about to fall in a lake as a little boy. He looked happy, with a huge grin on his face; he clearly hadn't realized he was about to fall when the picture had been snapped. That had been his mom's favorite picture of him. The rest were arranged around it. Derek chuckled, the movement making Stiles's body shake with him.

He turned the next page and there were pictures of Stiles's family, along with Scott and the other members of the McCall family, there was even one of Scott's dad. There were pictures of Scott and Stiles blowing out candles on each other's birthdays. They'd made a pact that they'd share every birthday wish as they were growing up. They gave up the tradition when Scott's dad never came home and Stiles's mother died.

There were pictures of his mother mixed in with all the others. In almost every one of them she was making a silly face or teasing one of the little boys. There was one of her and Melissa dumping buckets of water on their husbands as tiny versions of Scott and Stiles threw their hands up, mouths open like they were cheering. Their dads looked shocked, Stiles couldn't remember who took the picture, but his father had told him it was one of Scott's dad's friends who was on the camping trip with them.

The picture that he had on the nightstand at home wasn't in this photo album though. It was selfish but it was just for him. It was one of the only ones that existed where she was just smiling that little mischievous smile.

"This one is my favorite," Derek said as he pointed to a picture in the corner. The picture had been taken by Stiles's father. It was Stiles as a toddler, asleep on top of his mother as she slept on the couch. She was covering his back protectively with both her hands. That picture was one of Stiles's favorites too. He wiped at his eyes with his hands again.

Derek turned the page. These pictures were the start of the section that covered the pack; the first page was of the pack's vacation at the beach. The first few pages were all pictures that included at least two members of the pack. Most of them from the day they spent together and playing games. Derek laughed at pictures of Jackson and Scott wrestling on the beach. Rubbed his thumb fondly over the picture of Allison and Stiles playing cat's cradle on the swing, he made a tiny jealous growl at the picture of Lydia putting suntan lotion on Stiles's back. Stiles chuckled and patted his leg soothingly.

Each of the following pages had pictures of individual members of the pack alone, not just from the vacation, but from other times also. He'd collected them over the past few weeks. There was a picture of Lydia surrounded by a mountain of discarded clothes wearing only a bathrobe. She was going to kill him if she realized he'd taken it with his phone while trying to help her find the perfect outfit for a date she was going on with Jackson. It was his favorite.

There was a picture of Jackson on the beach. You couldn't see his face; he was sitting with his arms around his legs. It was sunset and his back was to the camera. Stiles had used the camera to zoom in on him. Jackson didn't know the picture was being taken at all; Stiles had been on the second floor terrace at the back of the house. He looked incredibly content to Stiles when he'd taken the picture, but as he looked at it again now, after having seen him tonight, he wondered if Jackson was lonely there on the beach, or waiting for someone.

Stiles favorite picture of Allison was of her walking carefully along the rocks at the base of the garden that was at the back of the house. Her arms outstretched. She looked graceful, caught mid-laugh with her eyes closed, one leg out about to take another step.

The next page had Scott. Stiles pointed to a picture of Scott with his tongue out in concentration. Allison had snapped it during the epic Hungry, Hungry, Hippos dual. Scott's eyes were full of the joy of competition. Derek chuckled and pointed to one where Scott was on the beach trying to do a handstand, the picture captured the moment he was toppling over backwards. Allison had been trying to show Jackson and Scott how to do it, but wolf strength and speed didn't help them perform the same graceful acrobatics that came so easily to her.

The last page had pictures of Derek and Stiles together that had been taken by other members of the pack. Stiles didn't even remember most of them. His favorite one though was Derek in the hammock, with Stiles nestled into his side. It had been when they got back from the ice cream parlor. Stiles had been so tired, mostly because of Derek's antics in the bathroom there, but they looked so peaceful in this picture. Scott had been the one to take the picture. He'd told Stiles that Allison did, but Allison told him the truth when they were building their 'No Wolves' fort.

Derek closed the book and set it aside. "That was the best present I've ever gotten," Derek said. He placed a gentle kiss against Stiles's hair.

"I kind of thought that was the weaker of the two," Stiles said.

"That's because you're the dumb one," Derek said.

Stiles opened his mouth to remind Derek that no one was allowed to be mean to him, but before he could Derek shifted underneath him, pushing him to the side of the blanket fort that wasn't littered with paper scraps, giant mugs of hot chocolate, and gifts. Stiles grunted softly as Derek used his head to nudge Stiles into rolling over onto his back. Derek straddled his hips and grabbed a pillow. He waited for Stiles to lift his head so he could put it underneath.

The fort was warm, but not nearly as warm as Derek's skin. Stiles smiled up at him. Derek leaned down and kissed him, whispered against his lips, "I want to give you the special present now, okay?"

Derek sounded nervous; it didn't really make sense to Stiles. He rubbed soothing hands over Derek's naked shoulders and back. "Okay," Stiles said. "Just tell me what you want me to do."

"I will." Derek paused for a moment before continuing to kiss Stiles again. "Just give me a second, I'm a little nervous."

Stiles had no idea what it was that could be making Derek so nervous. If Derek was nervous about something and sex, Stiles was slightly terrified that he wasn't going to live through whatever it was. He couldn't wait for it though; Derek always made it good for him. He wanted to give Derek whatever it was that he wanted. He just needed Derek to tell him what it was.

"You're the only male I've ever been with," Derek said as he looked down into Stiles's eyes. "I… I want you to make love to me; I want you to be my first. I love you."

Stiles blinked, tried to process what Derek was saying. He licked his lips nervously, he didn't know what to say, didn't know if he could make it good for Derek the way that Derek made everything amazing for him.

"I've… I've never done anything like that," Stiles said. "But I'll do anything for you. I love you too." He hoped he could do it right, make Derek feel good, make it everything he wanted it to be. He swallowed nervously as Derek leaned down to kiss him again.


	7. All the Memories

Derek looked down at the boy underneath him. He was so beautiful it hurt. They were in a place of shadows and half-light. The blankets and sheets that acted as the walls and the ceiling of the special place they were in didn't fully let in the light from the outside. Warm air from the electric fireplace caused a gentle rocking in the makeshift door to their own world.

Everything about the moment was perfect. Stiles was stretched out, he looked nervous, smelled like he was nervous. Derek could barely detect it under layers of peppermint and chocolate and himself that had settled into Stiles's skin. He leaned down and kissed the boy he loved. Stiles's gentle hands stroked through his hair, hesitant, unsure of what to do. There were times Derek wondered how they'd gotten to where they were. They'd both lost people they'd cared about, and yet somehow, they found each other in the process.

"I love you," Stiles whispered against his lips. There was more peppermint, more chocolate, and most importantly there was more Stiles being breathed against his mouth. There had never been air anywhere that was quite so sweet, quite so perfect.

"You're the most important thing I have," Derek told him, kissing him again. The animal need wasn't yet fully blooming, but Derek could feel it behind his eyelids. It wanted to take. It wanted to claim. It was a constant pressure at the front of his mind every moment they spent this close to each other.

It wasn't the master of him, not anymore. He was the master of his own mind, he was the master of his wolf, but in every relationship, no matter how dominant one participant was, there had to be give and take. The wolf in him wasn't his slave; the boy under him wasn't his slave either. Stiles probably didn't even know how delicate the balance of the three scales was. The Alpha Wolf, Derek, and Stiles, they were doing it together, they were making it together somehow. Derek's eyes fluttered closed momentarily as Stiles ran soft fingers over his forehead.

"Derek," Stiles said, his voice sounded so small. "I want you to know. I love you, but sometimes I get scared that I'm not good enough, that you deserve something better." He leaned down and kissed Stiles's forehead, waited to hear the rest of what he wanted to say. "I also want you to know that you're good enough for me, you're the most important thing I have. I love you even more than my tree house and my comic books. I love you more than Scott and my dad, but don't tell them that because they wouldn't understand how it's different. I love you as much as I loved my mom. I feel safe when I'm with you; sometimes you're the only thing that makes me feel safe and loved."

Tears dripped out of his eyes onto the boy's face beneath him, forcing their way past his closed eyelids. Warm arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him down so that he could bury his face into the black cotton sweatshirt Stiles was wearing. Stiles was trying to help him hide his tears. How had he gotten someone so amazing to love him?

Memories cascaded over him, all the things from the place where it began.

_"W-what…" Stiles had said, Derek remembered how shocked he looked when he'd asked him if the spot in his bed was taken, the first night they'd returned home from the beach. He'd tripped in his excitement and Derek had caught him._

Derek took a deep breath, let Stiles stroke his hair.

_Stiles had licked his lips nervously as Derek tore through the seatbelt that had been keeping him away from Stiles's lap. He had looked up at the boy momentarily, loved the flush of skin as he bit his knuckle and turned away, too embarrassed that he sparked such hunger in another person._

"I love you," Derek said, even as the memories kept coming.

_Stiles had looked so worried sitting on the stairs as Derek walked past him carrying the suitcases, like somehow he thought that the end of their vacation didn't herald the beginning of something new._

_"I'm not carrying your suitcase out to the van Stiles," Derek had said, "I'm giving you a helping hand not a hand out."_

_Stiles had groaned, maybe he hadn't thought that Derek would remember all the things he'd ever said._

"I love you too," Stiles said, unknowingly adding another perfect layer of memory for Derek to reflect upon even as he went further back.

_Stiles had protested as Derek pulled him away from his friends to take them back to their room. He had wanted to keep playing games, to keep being part of the pack; he never wanted to let it go. He seemed as though he'd been afraid that once their game night was over, they'd never have another. Derek had to carry him over his shoulder back to their room._

Stiles was enough, no matter what he thought, Stiles was enough for him, sometimes maybe more than he could handle. He was so full of life. So willing to jump head first without caution, just like the first time Derek had made love to him.

"_Careful…" Derek had warned him, unable suppress the need in his voice as he had gotten inside Stiles for the first time. It hadn't been enough to take it slowly. Stiles had wanted more._

_"Move! You're not going to break me." Stiles had commanded, and had gotten exactly what he wanted._

"We don't have to do this, if you're nervous. If you're doing it for me," Stiles said. "I'm happy with what we have; you don't need to push yourself." Stiles always seemed to be worried that he somehow wasn't good enough, especially when it came to sex. He always wanted to make sure it was what Derek wanted. He had no idea how amazing he was. Derek had memories that still made his knees weak.

_"Was that good?" Stiles had asked._

_Derek had looked down at Stiles on his knees with his legs spread wide. The teenager had one of his fists wrapped tightly around his cock while the thumb of his other hand rubbed across his swollen lips, pink tongue darting out against it._

Stiles was gorgeous, hot, sexy, and the fact that he didn't seem to know it just made it all more powerful. What was between them was more than that though. Stiles had a way of saying just the right thing, having the perfect words in every situation.

_"I don't know… I don't know what I'm doing." Derek had said._

_He had been shaking and he hadn't been sure if it was from the fatigue of running across the city or if it was something else. He had shivered when he felt soft hands on his neck pulling his head forward. He hadn't opened his eyes when he felt Stiles press their foreheads together._

_"Being with someone, trusting them, I don't think it's about always knowing what you're doing. You have to sort of just feel it out as it goes," Stiles had told him "it's like poetry that you write together by living in each other's space, using how you feel to find the right rhythm."_

Derek let his head rest against Stiles's chest. "I want to do this, I'm just thinking about all the reasons why, I just need a few minutes."

_"Hey Derek," Stiles had said into the camera, Derek hadn't been able to shake the feeling that Stiles's brown eyes had been locked onto him._

_"I know why you left… well I think I know. You probably think you're dangerous, or that you're not the kind of person I want to be around. If that's what you're thinking, then you're stupid. You don't get to decide what kind of person I want to spend time with. I couldn't remember earlier but now I do, you aren't the boss of me. You're supposed to be my friend. Friend's don't just leave each other when one of them needs the other._

_I know that maybe, maybe you think that you weren't strong enough to protect your family, that you need to be stronger, but the thing is, this is a second chance, us, the five of us and you too. We can be strong together, we can take turns being strong, we can help each other. You and me, we can find out what we've got between us, and we can take it as slow as you want."_

_Derek had watched Stiles swallow nervously then lean forward to look directly at the camera._

_"If you want that too, if you want to know what it is that you and I could be if we stopped running and stopped hiding, then find me before the sun goes down ok? I know you can. I can't find you, I don't have Danny to track your phone, I don't have a super werewolf tracking power. I'm just a normal guy, just a regular person. So I'm going to have to rely on you to do it, you have to find me, because that's what people do when they care about each other. They do things the other people can't. So do it Derek, prove Scott wrong, find me before the sun goes down. Unless I really was just your whore, something to distract yourself before you moved on."_

"Take all the time you need," Stiles said as he gently rubbed soothing hands over Derek's back. "I'm not going anywhere." Even when he hadn't been sure about what was between them, Stiles had known.

_"This is what I want," Stiles had whispered into the space between them._

Derek had almost bolted, but when he heard those words his self-control had failed him. He wasn't proud of leaving while Stiles had been in the shower, but Stiles had forgiven him. There were days when he felt like he'd almost forgiven himself too. Derek went further back, smiling as he recalled their first kiss. He'd barely been awake, had thought of Stiles as a buzzing bee.

_Warm soft lips had brushed against his. He'd frozen, shocked at the suddenness of it. He'd not been expecting it. Stiles had ground down against him, and then a curious tongue had licked against his mouth, testing, seeking something. Derek had let him in; Stiles had let out a needy wet moan._

"What are you thinking about?" Stiles asked as he placed a small kiss into Derek's hair.

"All the reasons I love you," Derek said, "How you didn't want to let me go, even after I'd hurt you."

_"If I let go you'll leave," Stiles had said._

_Too perceptive, Stiles had always been just too damn perceptive for his own good._

_"I'm dangerous," Derek had said, "it's the only way you'll be safe."_

_"No," Stiles had sounded so sure he was right._

He had been right, the more Derek thought about it, the more he thought that maybe Stiles was always right, he let out a tiny annoyed growl at the thought that it meant that he was always wrong. Stiles chuckled underneath him, he'd already told Derek he wasn't scared of him anymore, even though he'd seen the worst parts of him, and still saw the best at the same time.

_"Derek, please don't do this," he had whispered to the raving mad beast that had taken over Derek's mind, "you're supposed to be the one who takes care of us."_

"You're okay, Derek," Stiles said as he continued to stroke his back. "I'm not going anywhere, I belong to you now, and you belong to me too."

Stiles was his, willingly gave himself to Derek, despite knowing what the need had done to him. Sometimes that moment, when it all came together was a bitter nightmare, sometimes it was the most sublime moment of his life. When he had seen Stiles, and thought that Stiles was his for the first time.

_A shining blue light had caught Derek's attention. It was his family's symbol, branded on Stiles's back._

_**MINE!**__The Alpha Wolf had declared, the force of it had rocked him to his core._

Derek knew that he did belong to Stiles, but the teenager never really made any demands of him, except maybe to be a little bit less of a tease before he gave Stiles what he wanted. Derek didn't think that counted though. The thing that they grew into, it had taken a long time to get to where it was. Derek wondered if Stiles remembered the first time he'd ever said out loud that he liked what Derek could do to his body.

_He'd been all bandaged up at the time, had called himself 'Edward Bandagehands', Derek loved how silly he could be._

_He had trailed his hands up and back over Stiles's shoulder blades, pressed down on them, and rubbed in motions that had caused Stiles to react as if they were both soothing and unbearable in turns._

_"Derek…" Stiles had whispered, "Your hands feel… they feel so good."_

_Stiles's voice had been like a lash whipping against Derek's self-control. It had flayed it open, left it raw and weak._

Derek stroked his hands under the sweatshirt that Stiles was wearing, his sweatshirt, and savored the sweet and nervous hitch in Stiles's breathing.

"Derek," Stiles whispered, "Your hands always make me feel so good."

Derek grinned, Stiles was sweet, loving, and did everything he could to make sure everyone else around him was taken care of. Well… except for in the morning.

_How Stiles had gone from having a small secretive smile on his face, like he knew something you didn't even when he was asleep, to a rabid enraged wolverine and back again was mysterious and terrifying._

"I love the way you talk to me," Derek said. He sat up. He was straddling Stiles's hips. "Can I take my shirt off you?"

"I was beginning to think you'd never ask," Stiles said, he sat up too and held his arms up.

Derek caught a brief flash of the paler scar tissue on his hands, the right one was by far the worst, where the shell had cut into him. Derek always walked on Stiles left side, to hold his left hand because the right hand had been the one that was hurt worse. Derek didn't think he'd ever forget that moment, when he saw Stiles trying to get into the house, hands dripping with blood.

_He had been about to slam his head against the door, Derek had grabbed him from behind and pulled him away from it. Stiles had thrashed and screamed, he had been shaking, kicking trying to do everything he could do to get away from him. Derek had lifted him off the ground, terrified that Stiles was going to hurt himself worse._

"_YOU! This all started with you and your family," Stiles had screamed it like an accusation. It had been._ _"I didn't have much but I had one friend, and you took him from me! It's your fault!"_

_It had been unfair; Derek had been stung by the words. He barely knew Stiles then and he had thought it unfair that Stiles thought losing one friend was worth the same as Derek losing his whole family, as if Stiles had thought that Derek wouldn't trade Scott's supernatural nature back for just one more second of Laura's laughter or his parents' smiles._

_In the end he had just held Stiles down, let him cry out and thrash and wear himself out until all that was left was the pain. He poured it out into Derek's shoulder, told him about his mother's death, how he felt that Scott didn't have time for him. He told him how jealous he was that Jackson had everything and it wasn't enough for him, how bad it hurt that Lydia never acknowledged him._

_Derek didn't know what to say, didn't know Stiles had been in so much pain, he'd just held him down and listened until Stiles had fallen asleep._

He finished pulling his sweatshirt off Stiles's torso, pushed him back so that he was spread out on the ground. Curious brown eyes regarded him as he stared at the pale skin stretched out before him. Stiles was perfect, Derek still remembered the first time he'd gotten a good look at him.

_Stiles had opened his eyes and blinked sleepily up at Derek as he stood over him in bed. He'd stolen Stiles's covers, trying to wake him up so that they could have breakfast together along with the other members of the pack._

"_Just five more minutes," Stiles had said, as though those five minutes would have made a world of difference._

_Derek had blinked down at him; he'd been wearing just a pair of tight white boxer briefs that weren't leaving anything to Derek's imagination. He'd been pouting when he said it. Derek could spend hours watching those soft lips and warm brown eyes._

_If that was all he'd done Derek might have been able to rouse him from the bed, but Stiles seemed to have some secret power over anyone who watched his lips for too long. Derek's hands had trembled, wanting to give Stiles back his covers, but he hadn't caved. Not until Stiles did the one thing that always made Derek give in._

"_Please…" Stiles had begged. He'd curled his lower lip into his mouth, biting it nervously and looking so needy, rocking back and forth in the bed. "S'cold," Stiles had said, and when he did Derek's resolve crumbled away._

_He'd given the covers back, and made an empty threat, "Five minutes," he had said, "Then I will come back here, I will pull you from that bed, and I will toss you into the shower myself."_

_Stiles had just curled the blankets back around him, and let out the noise that would eventually become Derek's greatest desire, a low moan of satisfied pleasure. It had been a soft rumble in Stiles's chest._

Derek had learned how to make Stiles make that noise on command, in a thousand different ways. He knew how to do it with his fingers, with his tongue, with his lips, and Stiles always made it for Derek's dick, and every time Stiles made the noise Derek wanted to coax him into making another, and another after that, until the only words he still had left were 'Derek', and 'please'. Then he'd try to take it further, until it was just a wordless mewling expression of bliss.

He leaned down and kissed Stiles, licking into his mouth until he made the noise. He ghosted his hands across Stiles's stomach, dipping slightly under the waistband of the boxers Stiles was wearing to pull them off. Stiles lifted his hips at the perfect time. They'd done this so many times they didn't even need to speak; they just knew how to move together.

Now it was time for Derek to learn how to move differently, for Stiles to learn it too. In a way, this would be like Stiles taking both of their virginities. Derek had never had anyone inside him and Stiles had never been inside anyone. He hesitated for a moment when he felt Stiles's fingers curl under the waistband of the pajama pants he was wearing. He swallowed nervously, he wasn't sure why, he knew he felt safe with Stiles, he remembered the first time Stiles had ever comforted him.

_Derek had woken up when Stiles had kneeled down next to the bed. He was confused and afraid; he'd been having a nightmare. He was being chased through the woods by a larger wolf than himself, larger than Peter had been, larger than Laura. It had been a slavering black beast with burning red eyes. Derek had called on his own wolf's strength when cornered, but it tore into his gut, his brilliant azure blue eyes couldn't stand up against those terrible crimson ones._

_Stiles had pressed his forehead to the back of Derek's hair. He had stroked the arm that had fallen off the bed. Stiles rubbed his face into the back of Derek's hair and whispered, "Shhh, you're going to be fine. I'm here, we're all here."_

_It had made him feel calm, to have that presence looming over him. He hadn't opened his eyes; he didn't want to scare Stiles away. The young man was trying so hard to be there for him, to calm him down, even though they'd never really shared much affection for each other._

"_You're not alone anymore," Stiles had said as he continued to stroke Derek's skin with those soothing hands. "We're not going anywhere, we're a family, and we're your pack."_

_Stiles had lingered against him, seemingly taking comfort in the warmth of his body. He had rubbed his face against Derek's hair, patted his back, and stroked the palm of his hand as he whispered, "We're right here with you, right here."_

Stiles seemed to have sensed the nervousness draining out of Derek's body; he used his hold on Derek's waistband to pull him forward, then rolled them over so he was resting on top of Derek's body.

"You're going to be ok," Stiles whispered to him.

Derek believed him; he could let Stiles take care of him sometimes. Stiles was strong enough to protect Derek too. He lifted his hips and let Stiles remove the pajama bottoms. He leaned in and kissed against Derek's stomach.

_**Vulnerable!**_

The Alpha Wolf vibrated in his mind, sensing that Derek was letting his guard down with Stiles nestled against his belly. He took a deep breath, tried to keep his body from shaking. Stiles didn't have any claws or fangs to tear him open, to threaten the wolf in him, but even if he had them, he wouldn't use them. They had something special, something stronger than that fear.

_Stiles had seemed so surprised when Derek wanted to help him finish dinner. The sauce he had been making smelled delicious. Derek hovered around until Stiles had offered to let him try it. He'd been suspicious, wondering if it was all an elaborate practical joke. Stiles as a cook seemed like such a ridiculous idea to him at the time._

_He had ordered the pack to help him, so that they each had a place and a role, it was how he had started to train them. They did it so well, he had thought he'd have to fight harder, but by the time they were all sitting around the table and eating he couldn't help but smile when he had thought no one was looking._

_Stiles had seen him though; Stiles saw everything with those brown eyes. He had nodded, letting Derek know that he knew, and somehow Derek had known that Stiles wouldn't say anything. They had shared something in that moment that the other four members of the pack had missed._

That something had grown into the most important thing, most precious thing that Derek had ever been a part of. Stiles continued kissing down his stomach. He somehow sensed that Derek didn't want to be teased, that he needed more than that.

Stiles sucked him deep into his mouth, tongue and lips working hard to give him pleasure. Stiles was so good at it, he started to buck his hips up into Stiles's mouth to get more but Stiles's hands pushed his hips down. It would have been impossible for Stiles to hold him against his will, but he let him do it, let Stiles do it the way he wanted to.

Stiles wasn't a vulnerable thing that needed Derek to protect him, do all the work for him, or to make all the decisions. What Stiles wanted was someone who was going to work with him, meet him half way when he wanted to do things on his own. He'd told Derek that the day they'd arrived at the beach house. Derek had been trying to dominate him, to get him to do what he wanted, but Stiles had spoken his mind.

_Stiles had said, "Well, it's hard for me to do anything with you being all handsy. Not like I can pull you along like you're Santa's fricken sleigh and I'm your adorable prancing reindeer team. How about you pull my suitcase out like a gentlemen, graciously offer to take it inside for me, which I will of course refuse because I'm a modern independent individual capable of doing my share of the work. I'm not looking for a hand out; I'm looking for a hand to get my suitcase. I mean, you are the one who finished packing it so you should take responsibility."_

Derek grunted as Stiles lapped at the head of his dick. Stiles knew all the places that made Derek want more. He was working all of them with his talented mouth. He made a needy whine around Derek's cock, released Derek's hips and stilled the movement in his neck. Derek thought that maybe he wanted something more familiar before they truly ventured into new territory. Derek gripped Stiles's head firmly and thrust up into his mouth. Stiles started making that soft rumble in his chest, the one that Derek loved.

Stiles didn't need anyone to save him; sometimes he wanted someone to take care of him, to do things for him. Derek knew that sometimes Stiles could exhaust himself worrying about other people and just needed someone to shield him from the world until he could get his strength back, until he could get back in the game in top condition. Derek grinned as he thrust up into Stiles's mouth harder, loving the way Stiles swallowed around him. Sometimes Stiles used that vulnerability for his own purposes, he'd lure people into standing up for him just to see if they had his back. Derek thought it might have been a defense mechanism, but sometimes it was just for laughs too.

_On the way to the beach house Stiles had been at the top of his game as far as being an annoying teenager. He'd wanted to play games and he talked incessantly. Eventually Derek had threated everyone into being quiet. Stiles wouldn't back down though, he baited Jackson into a frenzy of hostility, then tried to hide behind Derek._

_"Derek, Jackson is talking." Stiles had told him. He'd probably have laughed about it if he'd been more comfortable with them, but at the time he was nervous, still afraid of the Alpha Wolf inside him._

Stiles let Derek's cock slip out of his mouth, he growled in protest but Stiles just crawled up his body, nuzzled against Derek's neck and licked lightly. Derek gasped in pleasure as Stiles ground their cocks together. Stiles was so hard it seemed like it must have been painful. He tensed up his body, wanting to roll them over and give him some relief. Stiles nipped against his neck when he started to move, closed his teeth on Derek's neck.

_**Vulnerable!**_

The Alpha Wolf went wild; Derek closed his eyes to hide their burning energy in case Stiles released him and looked up. The Alpha Wolf wanted to hurl Stiles away from him, to tear out his throat for having been so bold. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles tightly, held him to his chest. Stiles bit harder, sucking at Derek's neck as if to mark him, to prove to the entire world that Derek belonged to him. Derek let him, and the Alpha Wolf surrendered in his mind, it rolled over and went belly up. Derek wasn't sure if it was to Stiles or to him, but it didn't matter, because they were about to be one unit, coupled together, giving each other what they needed. Stiles would have said it was awesome. Stiles had known, on some level that everything was going to be awesome. Derek had overheard him say it to Scott.

_Stiles had said, "We are going on a vacation. A sour wolf funded vacation of awesome. Awesome at a beach, this is actually whatever comes right after awesome, maybe – maybe two stages past awesome even."_

Derek had wondered when it had happened for a long time, but he had his answer, Stiles had him at 'Awesome', and once he got him he never let go, just burrowed deeper and deeper into him until Derek didn't know where Stiles ended and he began.

Stiles released his throat, lapping at it soothingly the way Derek had done to him countless times. "Are you ok?" Stiles asked, "Is this good?"

Derek rolled over onto his stomach, shivered as Stiles nipped at the back of his spine. There was no warning from the Alpha Wolf. "I'm awesome." Derek said.

Stiles laughed, he sounded a little unsure and nervous. Derek pushed himself up onto his hands and knees so Stiles was draped over his back. He looked over his shoulder into those warm brown eyes and saw something new, a new type of hunger. He gasped as Stiles ran possessive hands over his sides.

"I'm going to make it good for you," Stiles promised.

"I know," Derek said, "You always do." Derek pushed his hips back against Stiles, felt the hard length of his dick against his ass. "Please Stiles," Derek begged, "Give me what I need." Derek didn't think he'd always need it, or that he'd always be comfortable doing it, but in this moment, it was what he wanted.

Stiles teeth bit down roughly on the skin at the small of his back. It was a perfect start, Derek started panting softly, a tiny whine of need that he didn't even know he could make bubbled out of his chest. Stiles's nails dug into his sides, he couldn't wait any longer. He _needed_ Stiles now.


	8. A Place Just for Them

Derek arched his back as Stiles trailed kisses down his spine. He gripped the blankets piled underneath him, desperate to hold onto something. Stiles was everywhere, the scent of him flaring so strongly through the enclosed space that Derek would have choked on it if his lungs hadn't been meant to breathe him in, hadn't been crafted for that sole purpose.

Stiles's nails were dragging down his sides, Derek trembled and panted. Stiles reached between his legs letting his fingers brush against Derek's balls before gripping him firmly at the base. Derek gasped as Stiles ran his thumb along the sensitive vein on the underside of his dick, hissed out in pleasure when the palm of Stiles's hand twisted over the tip. He opened his mouth to tell Stiles what he wanted, but before he could Stiles was already answering the silent plea.

Wet heat brushed against him gently, trailing the small patch of skin behind his balls and making its way up slowly. Derek grunted, the feeling of Stiles there, behind him, slowly blazing a trail of heat to the entrance of his body made him shiver. It was different, not what he was expecting. He thought he wouldn't like it, that he'd just tolerate it until Stiles had decided he was ready. He'd been wrong, Stiles was finding nerves that Derek hadn't known existed in him. He'd thought the little buttons to make a person's spine quiver were unique to Stiles.

Derek's toes curled and his fists gripped the blanket tighter as Stiles licked against him. He moaned, it was wet and needy and it wasn't a noise he was used to making but Stiles's hand on his dick gripped him tighter when he made it, the nails on his hips dug in harder. Stiles loved this; sometimes Derek spent what felt like hours trying to get into the boy's body with his tongue. He was beginning to understand why.

Stiles was kissing him, open mouthed, wickedly hot and sinfully wet. He spread his knees wider apart, panted out encouragement. Derek wanted to tell Stiles how good it was but Derek hadn't ever been taught words to express that type of feeling.

"Fuck," he panted, "Fucking… please… more…" he groaned, he hoped it was enough.

Stiles twisted the hand around his cock harder, gripping him tightly the way Derek loved it. Stiles's tongue worked harder too. Derek buried his face in the pillow, bit down on it to try to stifle the noises he didn't know he could make. Stiles moaned against him and licked harder like he was going to start trying to fuck Derek with his tongue, it sent a vibrating tingle up Derek's spine and through his balls at the same time.

Derek wanted more; he wanted to feel Stiles inside of him. "Please… Stiles," Derek grunted into the pillow. Stiles's answer was to lick harder, he was beginning to think Stiles's tongue was the strongest muscle in the teenager's body, he'd already known it was the most talented.

Stiles snaked his tongue up and down, forwards, deeper, back, and in ways Derek didn't even know a tongue could move. He could feel his balls drawing up, he gasped, it was too soon, he didn't know Stiles could do this to him, bring him to the edge so easily. Stiles's tongue abandoned him, Derek groaned in protest.

"Trust me," Stiles whispered from so close Derek could feel the hot breath against his ass. "I'm going to make you feel so good. You don't have to do anything."

Stiles mouthed his balls wetly and then used the tight grip he had on Derek's cock to pull it backwards. Derek's spine arched and he let out a choked whimper as Stiles's tongue brushed against the sensitive cluster of nerves under the head of his dick and then darted forward to lap at the tip and the evidence of Derek's pleasure that was leaking wildly out. The stretch of it felt good, the position he was in. It was all different. He'd thought he'd known everything that Stiles's mouth had been capable of. He'd been wrong again.

"Roll over for me," Stiles said. He licked up the length of Derek's cock and over his balls again, "I want to see your eyes."

Derek groaned at the words. Stiles let go of his dick. Derek flipped over onto his back and spread his legs open. He looked directly into Stiles's gorgeous brown eyes expecting him to look away. Stiles didn't look away though, he pinned Derek to the floor with his gaze, stole all the air out of his lungs and kept watching him. It was smoldering. Stiles licked his lips and Derek's dick twitched hard enough that the slap as it came back to rest on his belly sounded loud in the otherwise silent place they were in.

Stiles leaned down, not breaking eye contact as he licked over Derek's cock. Stiles never did this, never watched him like this. He was always the first to look away, always unable to face the hunger in Derek's eyes. It was Derek who had to look away first but even when he let his eyes flutter closed, even as he gasped at Stiles's mouth enveloping him in heat again, the image stayed burned in his mind. It was a possessive hunger that he'd never seen there before.

"Derek," Stiles said, letting his cock go free again. "I want to see your eyes."

"Stiles…" Derek whispered, he didn't even know what he was asking for. He was confused, unsure of what to do.

"I'm going to make it good for you," Stiles said, "I promise."

Derek didn't have the words he needed, he groped under the pillows near his head, knew that he'd placed a bottle of lubricant there. He'd planned ahead, but he had no idea what it was going to be like. His groping fingers finally found what he was looking for. He opened his eyes and looked at Stiles.

"That's good," Stiles whispered, "Give it here, I'll take care of you."

Stiles's eyes were still smoldering, so dark and yet filled with a hungry fire, an anticipation and longing for what was coming. Derek knew that even though Stiles had said that he was fine with what they had, it was because he didn't know there could be anything else. Now that he did he wanted it, wanted to try it out. Derek could smell it all over him, could see it in the way his hand shook as it took the bottle. It wasn't nervousness that had set Stiles's body quivering; Derek could tell it was excitement.

Derek closed his eyes when he heard the cap open. He was waiting, nervous, expecting to feel cool fingers breach him. Searing wet heat engulfed his dick again instead. He gasped at the unexpected sensation.

"Stiles…" Derek begged, and there wasn't any shame in it. He needed Stiles too, in this place, hidden from the rest of the world it was okay. He could let Stiles take care of him. No pressure, no expectation, he could let himself be loved, didn't have to cling so hard to make sure the things he had weren't going to go away.

For a long time Derek had thought that anything he loved was destined to be taken away from him. He wasn't going to let anyone take Stiles. He knew that Stiles wasn't going to let anyone take him either, that the teenager would fight with tenacity to stay with him.

Stiles didn't say anything, he used his mouth instead, worked his throat around Derek. He was probably trying to distract him from what was coming. It was working perfectly; he barely noticed when the first finger pressed against him, made its way inside.

Derek expected to hear the howling lament of the Alpha Wolf, but all he heard was a deep pleased rumble coming from Stiles's chest, vibrating through his dick and forcing pleasure through his spine. Stiles got a second finger into him; the two stretched and explored looking for something.

Stiles released Derek's dick from his mouth causing him to grunt when it slapped wetly back onto his stomach again. Derek opened up his mouth, he wasn't sure if he was going to complain or beg but before he could make a decision Stiles robbed him of breath. Stiles's fingers had found what they were looking for and Derek would have howled if his lungs were still working.

He gasped and shivered. Derek opened his eyes to look at Stiles. His lover's eyes were barely brown at all, there was so much hungry black that Derek thought they were sucking him into their depths. He wanted to sink into them, to see if that would let him see the world the way Stiles saw it.

The look on Stiles's face, it was as if he was in awe that he was able to do this, to bring these feelings to him. Derek grunted, breath hitching as a third finger sank into him. He watched as Stiles rocked back and forth in place seemingly lost in the wonder of how Derek was reacting.

"Derek…" Stiles gasped, "I want to be inside you, want to feel you all around me."

"Please…" Derek whispered, "I love you."

Stiles's hands were shaking, nervousness had threaded through the excitement. Derek sensed it rising up in his lover's chest. Stiles's eyes got wider as he looked down at Derek again, like the enormity of it was settling into him for the first time.

"You feel good," Derek said, "I want you to make me feel good." Stiles shook his head, eyes refocusing on Derek's face. "I need you to take care of me too…"

Nervousness fled, anticipation rose, and lust flared white hot like a supernova through the space that only they existed in. Derek couldn't smell the peppermint or the hot chocolate anymore, all he could smell was Stiles's need, Stiles's hunger, and it was dominating everything else. Derek was drowning in it. It was perfect.

Stiles scooted forward and Derek hooked his legs over Stiles's thighs. They both paused momentarily. Their eyes were locked on each other, drinking each other in. Derek felt the head of Stiles's dick nudge up against him, held his breath at the foreign sensation. Stiles sank into him slowly, inch by inch and Derek was losing track of everything else, losing track of his senses, losing track of his mind.

Stiles gasped when they were fully joined together, hips flush against each other. Derek felt Stiles's body trembling. Blunt nails were digging into his sides again. Stiles seemed stunned, mouth hanging open blinking like he couldn't believe what was happening, what he was feeling. Derek could understand how he felt, recalled in vivid detail the first time he'd been encased in the tight heat of Stiles's body. Now he knew what Stiles had felt, how full, how complete. He panted, wanted Stiles to move.

Stiles let out a soft whine, his voice trembling just as much as his body. "Derek," he gasped out sounding shocked, "So hot… so…" he groaned and his eyes fluttered closed. "So tight…"

Derek would have done anything to have seen this earlier, to see the awe painting Stiles's features as he shuddered and licked his lips again. Fire erupted in Derek's stomach. He needed more.

_**MORE**_

Derek gasped under the force of it, the Alpha Wolf was there pressing against the backs of his eyes but this time it was hungry for something new. "Please…" Derek grunted, rocking his hips, fucking himself against Stiles's trembling body with tiny motions that teased but didn't deliver what he needed.

Stiles blinked at the movement, his upper body curling in on itself slightly and his hips rocking back away from Derek, surprised by the sudden movement. Stiles blinked again and pushed his hips forward, gently rocking back into Derek's body.

"So good…" Stiles gasped, "Didn't know…"

Derek grunted, his own body was starting to shake, he needed more. Stiles gave another shallow thrust and this time hit a deep place in Derek that made him arch his back up off the floor, it caused Stiles to sink further into him, he moaned, vibrating around the sensation as though someone was shaking him by the base of his spine.

_**More…**_

The Alpha Wolf called out, but it wasn't commanding, it was begging. It had a new need, one that Stiles could take care of. Stiles could take care of Derek sometimes, could take care of the Alpha Wolf sometimes too. They could do it together, step by step, figuring out the rhythm of it as they went, just as Stiles had said on a beach at sunset so long ago.

Stiles pulled back and thrust forward again, picking up momentum and force but not speed. Derek watched as Stiles leaned over him, closed his eyes tight against whatever he was feeling and rocked forward again with more power. Pleasure spiked up Derek's spine, set his belly on fire and gripped him by the throat. He gasped, shaking his head back and forth, his hands reached up to stroke across Stiles's stomach and chest. Stiles's body trembled at the sensations Derek's hands were creating and leaned forward.

Stiles's sweat dripped down onto Derek's forehead and chest. His lover was panting, shaking harder and harder as he kept rocking forward. It wasn't brutal or quick; it was even, strong, and steady. Derek watched as Stiles's eyes fluttered open again. Derek reached out, wrapped his hands around Stiles's neck and pulled him down on top of him, catching his mouth and kissing him desperately.

Stiles moaned into his mouth, kept rocking with those shallow thrusts that didn't strike the deepest part of Derek so much as ground back and forth across it, a constant pressure of blinding sensation.

_**more…**_

It was a tiny whine, a plea from the Alpha Wolf to keep going. Derek couldn't say anything, his breath was shallow and his throat was raw. Derek's cock was trapped between their stomachs, every grinding thrust of Stiles's hips gave him more friction, more sensation. Stiles bit lightly at his lips, kissed his neck and his face. He was a flurry of lips and tongue all the while panting and whispering Derek's name like it was the most sacred thing in the world.

Derek hadn't known what to expect, had thought that he'd have been on his hands and knees with his face hidden as Stiles rutted against him but that's not what this was. They were forehead to forehead, breathing out of each other's lungs, licking at each other's lips and trying to stay alive, needing each other.

"I love you…" Stiles gasped, "Too good…"

Stiles's body started shaking again then froze, the movement of his hips stopped; he vibrated in place for a moment and then started rocking again. Derek could feel Stiles's thighs trembling under his the backs of his legs. Derek gasped when Stiles got his hand between them, gripped Derek and started pulling wildly even as his hips kept up their short forceful movements.

"Derek…" Stiles grunted out, gasping for breath and kissing him hard.

_**NOW**_

Derek couldn't hold on any longer, he was tumbling down into some place that he hadn't known existed, howling out as the pressure behind his eyes finally gave way and the tension in his body exploded outward, the force of it surprised him. He grunted, his head shaking back and forth as he covered them both in hot white fluid.

Stiles let out a hissing sound as Derek came. Derek knew what it felt like, to have the tight heat suddenly clenching around you, wringing you. Sometimes it made him feel like he wasn't going to be able to make it out in one piece, sometimes he didn't want to.

He stroked his hands over Stiles's short hair; he loved the look on his face. Stiles's eyes were closed, his lower lip curled into his mouth as his body kept rocking back and forth a few more moments and then he was shuddering, filling Derek, letting everything he had go for the first time into the heat of another body. Stiles whined at the sensation, hips trying to stutter back and forth a few more times. Stiles gasped and then collapsed onto Derek, the sudden impact of his lover's body landing on him forced the air out of his lungs.

"Derek…" Stiles gasped, still trembling with the aftershocks, each one causing him to slide a tiny fraction inside Derek's body. Derek shook with him.

"Stiles…" Derek whispered.

Derek had thought they would tear down the blanket fort with the desperation and need they shared between them but that special place that had been built just for them survived it. The place where they were alone, away from the rest of the world couldn't be torn down, couldn't be invaded.

They would leave it together eventually; they'd go back out into the regular world together, but they could return to that place whenever they wanted, Derek knew how to build it. He'd teach Stiles how to build it too. They could hide away whenever they needed to; they could return to that place that was just shadows and half-light. The place was just for them, where nothing could touch them, where they were together, wrapped up in each other's arms, sharing heat and breath and life.


	9. Wolves' Mead

Jackson was conflicted. He felt like something had crawled into his mouth and died, but there was someone warm snuggled into his belly. Their soft breath puffed against his abdomen. Their hands were curled against his sides. His head pounded, and he really didn't want to open his eyes. Despite the comfortable presence on top of him, he was lying on something hard and unyielding. Other than where he was sharing body heat with the person on top of him he was freezing.

Jackson reached down to run his hands through the long hair he expected to be attached to the person nestled against his waist, slightly confused that one of his hands seemed to be tangled up in something. He didn't care. He loved Lydia's long hair. Something hard and pointed stabbed into his hand as he reached down. It wasn't really sharp, he just hadn't been expecting it. He started coming fully awake and realized his back was at an awkward angle, like he was sleeping on top of something, a soft and feathery something with wire or metal in it.

He opened his eyes, looked up into sickly fluorescent lighting. He noticed several other things immediately. He was almost completely naked, he was cold as hell, and he had something wrapped around his wrist, it wasn't just tangled. He looked down towards the body that was resting on top of him.

"What the fuck?" Jackson's voice was barely above a whisper, and it came out raw, his throat dry.

It wasn't Lydia resting on his stomach, it was Scott. Scott was wearing a pair of devil horns. That must have been what he jabbed his hand on. The devil horns weren't the only weird thing though, Jackson was wearing a white leather harness; it was crossed over his chest and attached to whatever he was laying on.

Scott stirred a little, turned his face into Jackson's stomach. His breathing was even and content. Jackson tilted his head to the side; he didn't want to push Scott away from him even though he didn't really remember what had happened. He liked the feel of Scott resting on him, liked the warm breaths against his stomach.

There were two more things he noticed. The first was that the thing he was partially laying on was slightly visible in his peripheral vision. He craned his neck without moving his torso to try to see more. It was a feathered angel wing. It was bent at an odd angle and he could tell it was attached to the harness he had on. Jackson had no clue as to the fate of the other wing, but he knew it wasn't attached anymore.

The second thing he noticed was that he was in a prison cell, across the way Danny was sitting on a bench with his head against the wall. Jackson was in fucking _jail_. That was ridiculous. He was in jail in an angel costume. Scott's devil horns told him Scott must have been in a costume too, but he couldn't see any of it from the angle he was at though he felt smooth leather against his legs. Scott wasn't wearing a shirt though, that much he could tell from the smooth tan skin of his shoulders. Jackson lifted his tangled arm. A devil's tail was coiled about his wrist. He wasn't sure if it was still attached to the costume Scott had on or if it'd been torn off.

He looked back at his friend across the cell. Danny wasn't wearing a costume. There was a guy lying on the bench that had his head in Danny's lap. Jackson couldn't see him very well because the guy's face was turned into Danny's stomach; all Jackson could see was dark auburn hair.

"What the fuck?" It was a little bit louder than Jackson intended.

Danny shifted and opened his eyes to stare back at Jackson. "Hey buddy," Danny said. "You're awake."

"What the _fuck_?" He didn't know what else to say, it seemed like it pretty much summed up the whole situation pretty well. Danny chuckled. Jackson watched in fascination as his friend carded his fingers through the auburn hair of the guy in his lap. Who the fuck was that? What the fuck had happened? Why was he in a costume? Why was Scott in a costume? Where was everyone else? What the hell? "What happened?"

"Well, that's kind of a loaded question," Danny said. "It all started when Stiles asked me to help him with a chemistry project. He said he'd found something interesting in an old book that he wanted to try to make."

"What was it?"

"He said it was called Wolves' Mead." Danny looked at him. Jackson could see there was some hurt in his eyes, like he'd found out Jackson had lied to him about something. "Speaking of wolves…"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Elsewhere…<strong>_

Stiles was cold. Stiles was wet. He was both cold and wet. That was pretty unacceptable, especially since he had no idea why he was any of those things. He had a splitting headache. He blinked and opened his eyes when he heard a group of unfamiliar voices laughing nearby. He looked up into what looked like a statue. There was water coming out of various parts of it. He sat up and sneezed. He was in a fountain, a fountain that was sculpted to look like stacks of books. He was only wearing boxer shorts. He was freezing his ass off.

He looked over towards the sound of the voices and saw a group of young college age girls pointing their cell phones at him. He didn't know where Derek was. He didn't know where he was at or why he was in a fountain. The only thing he did know is that he was probably going to be sick after having spent a night in a fountain in the beginning of January. He also had a sneaky suspicion he might soon be the star of a viral video on Youtube.

"Oh fucking what the fuck?" He climbed out of the fountain, waved to the assembled girls. "Any of you seen a tall, sexy as hell, brooding man with the most gorgeous black hair?"

A pretty blonde girl with a shy smile pointed over his shoulder and above him. He turned to look. His mouth fell open in shock. There was Derek, passed out in a tree, belly down on a branch with his arms and legs dangling.

"What the fucking fuck?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Elsewhere…<strong>_

Lydia stroked Allison's hair softly. Allison was resting against her; they were sprawled out side by side in a lawn chair on top of a building in downtown San Francisco watching the sun rise together. At least they had been until Allison drifted off to sleep. Lydia brushed the back of her hand across Allison's pale cheek and adjusted the blanket covering them.

It had been one amazing night. She wondered how everyone else was doing. They'd been the only ones to arrive at the scavenger hunt's destination. They'd found everything. She bet the boys were all sulking about not having found all the items.

She had to hand it to Danny; he had come up with a pretty clever list. She glanced down at her phone trying to keep from jostling Allison awake. She didn't have any messages. That was alright, she wouldn't mind resting for a little bit longer. She nestled into Allison and pulled the blanket up over them further to shield them from the sunrise and trap a bit more of their body heat. She was glad they'd talked about their situation and about the boys too. She wondered if Allison would remember it when she woke up.

There was just one thing she hadn't figured out. Why hadn't she suffered the same side effects of Stiles's brew? She'd think about it later when she wasn't so tired. She let her eyes flutter closed as she threaded her fingers through Allison's. It didn't take her long to fall asleep.


	10. Brewing Mischief

_**24 Hours earlier…**_

* * *

><p>"So, let me get this straight," Danny said as he squinted at the old book in his lap. "You want to create something called faol meadh, which you think means wolves' mead?"<p>

"Yeah pretty much," Stiles said. He added more of the ingredients to the giant cask. Stiles had given Danny directions to the lot and the storage unit number. Apparently this was the best place he could think of to create his concoction without his father finding out about it.

"This recipe is in a different language. You know that right?" Danny knew what the answer was going to be, but he had to ask the question. It seemed sort of like his responsibility.

"Yeah obviously," Stiles said as he began to stir the mixture. "I just typed the stuff into the internet to get it translated."

"This is a recipe for fermenting mead according to the cheat sheet you printed out. That takes months, you just started doing this a few days ago." Danny was beginning to think he was speaking a different language from the boy who was playing mad scientist in the corner. "So how is it going to be ready by tonight?"

"Well," Stiles said, "I just had Jackson get ahold of some mead with similar ingredients. He's always getting alcohol of one kind or another. He wouldn't tell me the secret of how he got it, just brought it here a couple days ago. After that it was easy, I dumped it all in here then added the other stuff the internet told me was on that list."

"That's a joke right?" Danny was afraid that he already knew the answer. There was no way in hell he was going to drink anything Stiles McGuyvered together in a creepy ass storage shed on the edge of town.

"No of course it's not one of my jokes. If it had been a joke you'd be laughing. I'm pretty damn funny." Stiles added more pinches of spices and additional powders into the cask.

"Where did you even get this book?"

"It was a Christmas gift from my boyfriend," Stiles said.

Danny watched Stiles stir the fluid that was hopefully not going to turn out poisonous. He didn't want to end up in a hospital. At first he thought his only worry was going to be finding someone to kiss at midnight. He was beginning to wonder if he'd be dialing for emergency help and stomach pumping before they even started the scavenger hunt.

"Is it possible to create something poisonous by only mixing together things that are not poisonous?" Stiles turned towards Danny. Danny waited for a punchline that didn't come.

"Really?" Danny just didn't know what else to say to that. He had no idea, but he would think it was impossible. He wasn't sure he wanted to drink anything that prompted that line of questioning though. He was all for a good party, but this was turning into some weird chemistry experiment gone wrong.

Danny flipped to the next page of the book, not all of it was in Gaelic or Welsh or whatever language the recipe was in. He didn't really understand why Stiles would be interested in a drink that was supposed to 'subsume the primal instincts of a faoladh or conriocht into a human vessel'. He had no idea what a faoladh or conriocht was. It went on to talk about how during the ritual sharing of the drink that humans, particularly humans who were close to the creatures in question were likely to be compelled to act in accordance with the subsumed instincts, while the creatures themselves would be lulled by the strength of the drink.

In essence, Danny thought it basically said 'get some monsters drunk and take their powers if you're buddies with them'. It sounded like bullshit to him. It wasn't as if there were really monsters, and even if there were, the people drinking the same type of fluid meant to get a monster sloshed were probably going to be pretty epically drunk as a result. He doubted they'd be juiced up supernatural power houses. Everyone involved was probably just too wasted to realize the difference.

"So, did you read anything other than the recipe?" Danny hated asking Stiles questions, hated the answers that inevitably followed.

"Just the description at the beginning about how it was meant to get a werewolf drunk," Stiles said.

"This doesn't say werewolf." Danny turned the page back and looked again to see the words faoladh and conriocht to make sure. "It's some other language."

"I Googled it man, those things are werewolves, it'll totally work." Stiles was still engrossed in stirring his cask of unknown horror, occasionally adding more ingrediants.

"Is all of that edible?"

"Probably," Stiles said, "We're teenagers, everything's edible. I once ate a Dorito, pickle, banana sandwich on French toast."

Danny wasn't sure if it was the mental image of that or the sickly sweet smell of the alcohol in the enclosed storage unit that was making him more nauseous. Why would someone eat something like that? Did Stiles hate himself sometimes?

"That sounds… horrific," Danny said.

"It wasn't too bad, I've had worse. There was this one—"

"Don't, Stiles, please just don't," Danny interrupted the quirky guy before he could unleash another heave inducing culinary recipe.

Stiles looked down at his watch, glanced at the remaining powders and herbs on the TV tray next to him seemingly considering what to do next. Danny opened his mouth, but before he could say anything Stiles just swept the rest of the ingredients into the barrel and started stirring with insane fervor. Danny kept waiting for the lightning strike and maniacal laughter.

"Why would you care about a bogus recipe for getting werewolves drunk anyway? You know a lot of werewolves or something?" Danny laughed, what a silly concept.

Stiles froze in his stirring of the mead. Danny tilted his head curiously as Stiles turned to regard him with wide eyes. What a weird reaction, he knew Stiles was sort of goofy, but to think that werewolves were real was just flat out insane. Maybe he'd been huffing home brewed alcohol fumes for too long.

"Are you serious?" Stiles shifted nervously and went back to stirring his werewolf potion.

"Are you?" Danny supposed it was possible that Stiles had already dipped into his secret stash of mead before starting on the project. It was hard to tell, the guy was always sort of uncoordinated. "What's five times five?"

"Jackson's not said anything to you recently?" Stiles looked uncomfortable. "About anything?"

Danny swallowed the lump suddenly forming in his throat. He hadn't talked to Jackson much. He'd been really busy lately with Lydia and some advanced program that he was enrolled in doing all sorts of physical training.

"He's been busy," Danny said. "I've been pretty busy too."

Jackson had invited Danny to come to the party tonight, it had been the first time they'd made plans together since Jackson had left for his vacation earlier that summer. Danny was busy too, he'd broken up with the guy he'd taken to the formal and he'd spent most of the summer with his out of state relatives. They had talked at school, but Jackson had seemed down about something. Danny kept his distance waiting for Jackson to come to him but it hadn't happened yet.

"Well," Stiles said, "I think we're all going to learn a little bit more about each other tonight. Help me bottle this stuff up."

Danny sighed; it'd be hard to learn anything about anyone if everyone was in the hospital…


	11. Safety Check

"Alright, safety check time. Everyone drop your keys in the empty bowl on the table," Danny said. They were all gathered in one of the two connected suites in the San Francisco hotel they'd checked into for the night. There hadn't been any official discussion about sleeping arrangements, hopefully that wouldn't turn out to be an issue. There were four beds and seven people, or to put it in more awkward terms there were three couples and him.

He watched the various reactions of the people assembled in the room. Allison and Scott moved forward and dropped their keys into the bowl without saying anything. Derek, who as it turned out wasn't Stiles's cousin Miguel after all— which was good since they were apparently banging— looked suspicious of the bowl, then again, Danny had never seen him not look suspicious or angry. That could just have been his face's neutral expression.

Stiles wouldn't drop his keys into the bowl at all; Derek had to pry them from his fingers. It was sort of silly considering that his jeep wasn't even in San Francisco with them. They'd taken a rented van. Lydia made Stiles sit in the very back while Derek drove for some reason. She also had been clutching a can of air freshener as though she was afraid of being in a van with five guys and whatever they'd eaten for lunch.

Lydia and Jackson dropped their keys into the bowl and waited for the rest of the directions. They'd been to enough parties with him that they knew there were more regulations coming. Danny liked to have fun, but he liked to do it responsibly. No teenager was going to become a statistic on his watch.

"Everyone make sure your phones are fully charged," Danny said. "Double check that you have the number for the cab company so you can get a ride if you need it." He paused to let everyone follow his directions. "Alright, now that's out of the way, here are the rules of the game."

Danny picked up a second bowl that was on the table. "We're going to randomly create three teams, two teams will have two members and the last one will have three."

"How do we decide who gets to pick first? I want to be on Derek's team." Stiles took a step closer to Derek, as if to warn off anyone from trying to snake him away for their team.

Scott let out a sigh at first, but smiled sheepishly in apology when Stiles turned cold eyes on him. "You've been playing on Derek's team since the summer," Scott said. "We get it."

Stiles opened his mouth to reply, but before he could Derek patted him on the back. Danny watched in stunned amusement as Stiles closed his mouth and opted to take hold of Derek's hand instead of verbally assaulting his friend. Derek and Stiles were wearing matching bracelets with sea shells on them. Danny wouldn't have pegged Derek for the matching accessories kind of guy, but it worked for them somehow.

"We'll go alphabetically," Danny said. It seemed diplomatic.

Stiles let out an annoyed huff. "That means I'm last, how about we go reverse alphabetically for once, you know, shake the foundations and all that on the biggest party night of the year."

Danny shrugged and held the bowl out towards Stiles. He couldn't help but laugh at the glee that filled Stiles's face as he reached into the bowl and felt around inside like he was somehow using some sixth sense to find the one that had Derek's name on it.

Stiles opened the paper, threw his arms up in the air and let out a high pitched shriek that Danny assumed was supposed to be a cheer. "I got Derek," Stiles practically yelled, "It's kismet."

"Do you know what kismet even means?" Lydia crossed her arms over her chest and gave Stiles an annoyed look.

"Pretty sure it means you're jealous that Derek and I are going to win," Stiles shot back.

The two of them started grinning at each other. Danny blinked and watched the two of them; it was almost like the way that Jackson and Scott used to act, only slightly girly.

"I don't think they've invented a game yet that you and Derek could beat me at," Lydia said. "How long did you cry after I beat you in Battleship?"

Stiles scoffed but looked away. "I… I just had something in my eyes."

"They have a name for that." Lydia smiled. "It's called defeat."

Danny suddenly got it; somehow, Stiles had gone from being Lydia's creepy stalker to her gay best friend. Well if they weren't having sex at least they could be catty. It worked for them.

"Ok," Danny said holding the bowl out toward Scott, "That means it's your turn to pick."

Scott stepped forward and reached out for the bowl, but hesitated before grabbing any of the papers. "Can I be on the team with three members?"

Danny wasn't sure why Scott's gaze flickered between Allison and Jackson before settling on the shoes he was wearing. "I don't have a problem with that," Danny said. "Anyone else care?" No one spoke up so Danny shrugged. "Go for it."

Scott looked hopeful as he reached into the bowl and picked out two names. He didn't seem to put as much stock in whatever method of tactile investigation Stiles had used to ferret out Derek's name in the bowl. Scott opened the first paper. "Danny."

Danny tried not to be overwhelmed by Scott's enthusiasm. They were friendly with each other, after Scott had apologized to him for smashing him in the face with a lacrosse stick, but Danny wasn't sure he wanted to spend the evening with someone he didn't know very well either. He watched as Scott opened the second paper.

"Jackson," Scott said.

Scott's voice was quiet and for some reason he looked back at Allison as though for permission. Danny wasn't sure why she gave Scott a thumbs-up and a wink. Danny was glad he'd be able to hang out with Jackson for most of the evening; maybe they'd get a chance to catch up a bit.

"That leaves me and Lydia," Allison squealed, "Girl Power!"

Lydia laughed at Allison's enthusiasm. "I'm surprised the two girls ended up together considering how much of a sausage fest this party is." Danny joined the rest of the guys in staring at Lydia in shock. "Please," Lydia said, "None of you ever think it odd that there are so many boys and not so many girls in our little group?" She paused as if to wait for someone to say something. When no one did she continued. "Well that must be because every person here except for one has had a dick in their mouth."

Danny gaped at her. If that was true she must think that he'd fooled around with Jackson at some point. He looked over at his friend and was shocked to see his normally pale skin was flushed. That didn't make any sense.

"Well," Stiles said, "Moving right along…"

Stiles's voice broke Danny out of his thoughts. "Right…" He glanced at his friend. Jackson had been quiet all night so far, he'd barely talked in the van and he hadn't said anything at all since they got into the room. Danny was worried there was something wrong.

He reached down and picked up three envelopes that had been resting on the table. He handed one to Lydia and one to Derek. "Inside are clues to three locations. The goal is to find each location, and have someone take a picture of your whole team at the spot. Whoever gets all three pictures first and back to the hotel wins. If you make it back past midnight you automatically lose."

"How do we take the pictures?" Scott moved to stand next to Jackson.

"I've got three disposable cameras in my bag," Danny said. "I think that's everything. I'll go get them and then we can get started."

"Actually, we've got one more thing to do before that," Stiles said.

Danny groaned. He was hoping that Stiles was going to let the whole 'wolves' mead' thing go. He'd seen the bottles packed away in the back of the van, but he'd hoped they were full of something other than Stiles's homemade booze. He watched in mild horror as Stiles went and retrieved one of the bottles and started filling red plastic cups and handing them out.

Danny's horror increased exponentially when four of the seven people in the room stared ravenously at the liquid. Derek, Jackson, Scott, and even Lydia all seemed excited to get to the drinking. The three guys were sniffing at the brew like it was the most amazing thing they'd ever gotten a whiff of. Lydia's eyes gazed into the depths of the cup as though it held some secret mystery.

The group got close and raised their cups so that Stiles could make a toast. "To learning more about each other," Stiles said, "and to an unforgettable night."

They all bumped glasses and downed the drinks. Danny thought it wasn't half bad. He didn't even object when the group did two more rounds. It wasn't until they were on the street and going in separate directions that he started to feel an odd pressure behind his eyes. He felt good, warm, and full of energy. It wasn't a migraine, the pressure wasn't painful. It was something else…


	12. Down in the Darkness

The world didn't make sense anymore. The demon had led him down into darkness. Jackson had been following the metallic clinking of the creature's broken chains, but now he couldn't hear anything over the pulsing beats. He could barely think. It had been unleashed, he'd been the one to break its chains and now it had him. He'd unbound it. It had a name, he had known its name but he couldn't think. Memories and thoughts slipped through his fingers like water.

His head fell back and he looked up. Through the smoke he could see glass above him, so many bodies brushing up against each other, moving to the same beats that he was drowning in. Further up, so far that he could barely see it there was a bright light shining down. In the darkness where he was it seemed weak, faint, a promise of something he'd never get back to.

"I want to see your face," the demon whispered.

Jackson felt the thing's claws brush against his neck, strong hands gripped his head and pulled his gaze away from the radiance above. Yellow eyes watched him. They were hungry, they wanted him. They saw him even in the depths of the hood that obscured his blonde hair and blue eyes. Even in the darkness, with the hood to hide him he couldn't get away.

Dark hands, skin tanned and so warm pushed the hood back. Jackson felt exposed; he didn't know how he'd gotten lost in the smoke and heat. He felt the heavy metal chains brushing against his chest, felt cold even through the white sleeveless shirt he was wearing. It was the chains he'd followed; their hypnotic sound had led him down into the smoke and shadow.

The chains were attached to the manacles around the demon's wrists. He tried to look at them, but he couldn't break away from the yellow eyes. He was confused but he felt good, liked the drag of the sharp claws down his neck.

"You don't need this," the demon whispered, "I want to see you."

Jackson closed his eyes to break the spell; he would drown in molten gold if he kept staring. He heard the ripping of soft material. He let his head fall forward to watch as the demon's talons sliced away his shirt. The chains clinked as the creature pushed the material off his shoulders. He didn't care.

Shadows flickered around them, the light from up above coming and going as the people scurried above them and passed through the beams. There were so many demons down here in the darkness but the one that had him was the only one that made him feel safe. Jackson reached out, brushed his hands along the warm skin of the body that had him pinned to the wall.

It wasn't wearing a shirt, proudly displayed itself. His fingers brushed against something hanging down from the demon's neck. It was a cord. He traced the cord up with his hands and found that it was attached to a collar around the demon's neck.

The thing's warm hands brushed against his stomach, up his sides and gripped one of the four straps of the harness wrapped around his chest. A thumb brushed up against one of his nipples and he gasped at the tingling. He trembled and felt his wings shake with him. He was supposed to be an angel, angels weren't supposed to be down in hell, in the heat and smoke with demon tongues licking against their necks. He wasn't a very good angel. He didn't care. He pulled on the thing's leash to get its body closer.

"It doesn't matter if you're holding my leash," the demon whispered. "Down here you belong to me."

Jackson panted, he blinked and tried to focus, but the yellow eyes were back. He wasn't sure he ever wanted to go back up. He wasn't sure he wanted to get out of the smoke and darkness, not if it meant leaving his demon behind.

Sharp claws ghosted down his chest and across his belly. A long time ago, a lifetime ago, there would have been a warning in his mind. He wasn't supposed to expose his belly, wasn't supposed to let claws or teeth get there. He used to be a wolf and the wolf in him would have howled out its fear, but Jackson wasn't a wolf, could barely remember what that had been like. He was an angel now and there was no wolf in his mind that he could hear.

The demon sank down to its knees, its hot tongue that wasn't forked the way he thought it should have been licked at him. Sharp teeth nipped at his stomach. There was no warning in his mind. Had there ever been a wolf? He couldn't remember.

The twisting beats pushed down on his spine, the music, it was alive, it was inside him and he was just as much its slave as he was the demon's. There were bodies close, but not too close. Jackson could see them shifting in the darkness. He thought some of them might be watching him but he didn't care.

He looked down as his demon nosed against his groin. He caught another flash of yellow eyes momentarily before the gaze flickered back to his waist. He heard the metallic jingle of the chains again as the demon's hands unzipped his pants. He still had the demon's leash but it didn't matter, he didn't have any power down in hell.

"You're beautiful," the demon whispered as it reached into his underwear and got its fingers curled around his aching cock. "I want to keep you down here forever, hear you beg for me."

Jackson would beg, he'd do whatever the demon asked him to do. He reached out and ran his fingers through the thing's hair, careful of its curving horns. Jackson looked through the shadows all around him; he thought he saw other angels languishing under their masters. There weren't many that he could see; sometimes it was just pairs of demons. Devils that were too wicked to be sated by an angel from up above.

His demon got him free from his pants, pulled his dick out and licked up the underside of it. Jackson looked down, the other demons, the other angels, they didn't matter. His yellow eyed demon was giving him everything he needed. Those glowing eyes were looking up at him. There had been a time when Jackson had glowing eyes, green glowing eyes that he thought broadcast how envious he was, how jealous he had been until he'd gotten what he wanted.

It had all been for nothing, he wasn't a wolf anymore, he was an angel down in hell and his demon was punishing him in the best way possible. Heat enveloped him. He whimpered and begged because that's what the demon wanted. It wanted him to beg for it.

"Please," Jackson whispered. He didn't know if the demon could hear him. His voice was small. He could feel the tremors of the music in the feathers of his wings brushing against his back. "Please…"

He couldn't remember its name. He tugged lightly on its leash trying to urge it to give him more. He'd take whatever it would give him, he'd be thankful for whatever it was willing to do. He couldn't remember when it started, when he had come to the decision that he'd treasure any scraps of affection.

"I've got you," his demon whispered. "I see you; I'll give you what you want."

The demon's breath was hot against his aching cock. His demon saw him, that's all he wanted, for it to notice him. It had written him a message, engraved it on his heart in fire.

'_I see you, I see it, and I know it's there in you. It's in me too'_, the message had said.

There was more, there were other things, things that were a problem, things that were holding them back, but he couldn't remember what they were, not with how hard the demon was pulling at him with its mouth. He should have wondered why its eyes were glowing in the darkness when his were not, but he couldn't focus.

Jackson whimpered, leaned back against the wall and thrust his hips forward, fucking into the wet heat of his demon's mouth. It made pleased noises, Jackson tugged on the leash and he felt the thing's talons digging into his sides. He didn't care, he wanted more.

It started making needy noises around him, setting his body on fire. It wasn't the same fire the message had left in his heart, but it was just as compelling, just as binding. They'd never been together like this, wrapped up in smoke, shadows, and heat. He'd never been given this by his demon before. He'd given it out, had licked, sucked, and hungered around its warmth before, a lifetime ago, back in the world up above where there was more light and less sound.

He couldn't remember, couldn't think clearly because the demon's lips were taking him apart. He knew though, on some level he knew that so many nights ago, they'd collided. They'd fought, got tangled up in each other, caught up in the impulse of the moment. It had started something inside him, something he was afraid to look too closely at.

The demon made a hungry noise and its claws dug in harder. Jackson used one hand to encourage it by pulling on the leash, used the other hand to encourage it by tugging on its hair. "So good," he panted.

Some part of him knew it was wrong, there were reasons they hadn't done this before. He couldn't remember what they were though. They didn't mean anything down in the darkness. All that mattered was the heat; all that mattered was the demon giving him what he wanted, what he needed. He wondered if he'd traded his soul for it.

It was all too much, too much heat, too much force. He whined under the power of it, but that just seemed to make the demon work harder. It pulled his hips forward and he gave it what it wanted, rolled his hips and tried not to die under how glorious it was.

He couldn't hold back any more, his knees were weak. His legs were shaking and his knuckles ached from their grip on the thing's hair and leash. The demon made encouraging noises, pulled his hips forward and swallowed around him, flexed its throat and suddenly nothing else mattered, only the searing wet of the demon's mouth.

Jackson looked down and needy yellow eyes looked up as it worked to pull pleasure out of his spine. That was the thing that sent him over the edge, the burning amber gaze looking up at him. He grunted, he would have fallen if his demon didn't have such a firm grip on him. It pushed him back against the wall and kept sucking, greedy, even after he'd given it everything he had it kept going. The pleasure didn't stop, the demon wouldn't stop sucking at him and he was going to die down in hell and he just didn't care.

He looked up, back through the glass floor and saw the radiance up above. He let go of his demon's hair and reached out for it, smoke curled around his fingers and bodies up above blocked out the light momentarily again. He let his arm fall back to his side.

His demon finally let him go, showed that it could be merciful in its own way. It trailed wet kisses up his stomach, over his chest, it bit at his nipples. He whined against the sensation, but the demon had been right, down here in the darkness he didn't have any power, didn't have any control. It finally made its way up and claimed his mouth.

Jackson moaned into the kiss, let the demon suck on his tongue, plunder his mouth for whatever it wanted. Jackson wanted to give it everything, wanted to make it feel good. He couldn't do it in the darkness; he wanted to do it in the light up above, beyond the bodies dancing above them. He wanted to go into the light in the far distance.

The demon's wicked mouth released him; he leaned forward and rested his head against its shoulder. Jackson wished everything was clearer, if he could just get out of the darkness, if he could get back up above the smoke and out of the crushing music he could remember everything and he could make his demon feel good. His demon lovingly tucked him back into his pants; it stroked its fingers through his hair. There were no claws anymore, just soft touches stroking him.

"Let me take you up into the light," Jackson begged. "Let me show you how good it can be up above."

He knew he'd get it all back if he could make it up there, maybe the wolf would come back too, the wolf from the life he used to live. He missed it, wondered where it had gone. There was something else that was gone too, another person. Not his demon, it was still warm against his chest. There had been another person though; Jackson didn't know where that person had gone. Jackson would figure it all out; figure out all the missing pieces just as soon as he got up into the light.

"I'll follow you," the demon whispered and kissed him again. "Take me up into the light so I can see you better."

His demon kissed him again; there was no hungry fire in it. It was sweet. It was exactly what Jackson needed. He didn't bother to pick up the tattered remains of the shirt the demon had cut away from his body, he didn't need it. He had his wings, he had the demon's leash, those things would be enough to take them out of the shadows and up into the light.


	13. Up in the Light

There was something wrong with them, with both of them, but Scott didn't know what it was. His body was out of control. He couldn't keep himself from partially shifting. His eyes were almost constantly lit up, his claws and fangs extended and retracted chaotically. His wolf was quiet and furious in turns.

Jackson tugged on the leash that was wrapped around his neck as he led them up out of the basement. The light on the ground floor of the building was too much. Scott's wolf whined in protest. He huddled against Jackson's back, buried his face in the feathers of his wings. "I didn't think we'd ever make it out of the darkness," Jackson whispered. He stopped over one of the glass panels in the floor.

Scott looked down into the twisting smoke. Occasionally red lights would pulse and he was able to see bodies grinding against each other. Down there everything had made sense. All he could think about was how good Jackson smelled. Scott wrapped his arms around Jackson's waist and nuzzled into his wings.

On the ground floor everyone could see him. There was no darkness. They could see Scott for what he was. He didn't like it. He let out a pitiful whine. They would all see. They would all know. There were so many people moving in and around the plants and flowers that decorated the ground level. They were in a garden full of strange alien scents. The music from below was still loud in his ears.

"I don't like it here," Scott said, his face still hidden in Jackson's wings. "They all know. They know what I am; they know what's wrong with me. They know what I've done."

Jackson turned, but didn't pull out of Scott's grasp. "You're fine," Jackson said. "I won't let anyone do anything to you."

Scott wanted to close his eyes. Jackson tipped his chin up. Above them Scott could see soft light shining through swirling white clouds. There wasn't any loud music up there; it was all coming from below. The glass panels in the ceiling hinted at a calmer place.

"Take me somewhere that's quiet," Scott begged. He leaned forward to bury his face in Jackson's neck. He wanted Jackson's scent to fill him up, to block out all the other strange sensations that were pressing down on him.

"This way," Jackson whispered. He placed a small kiss on Scott's forehead. Jackson's lips felt so cool, Scott's skin was on fire. "I'll take you up into the light."

Scott followed closely behind as Jackson turned and walked towards the stairs. The chains dangling from Scott's wrists were hideously loud, the collar around his neck itched. His body was out of control still, his wolf started to get restless. He wanted to howl, howl so loud that it would cause all the people to run away. He just wanted to be left in peace, wanted to be alone with Jackson.

The music receded the higher they climbed. They came to a white door. Jackson opened it and pulled on the leash to lead him through. Scott sighed in relief when the door closed. The thumping music was gone. Soft light flooded the area around them. White mist curled around their feet. He let Jackson lead him through a small hallway into a larger room. White cloth draped everything in sight. There were cylinders of it trailing from the ceiling. Within the shapes Scott saw shadows moving.

Jackson slipped gracefully between gossamer streams of light. Scott looked down as he passed over another glass floor panel. Below he could see the garden and the humans who danced in it. He looked up when Jackson tugged on the leash again. The top level was so quiet compared to the others. He occasionally heard whispered words coming from the cocoons of white cloth.

"We'll be safe in here," Jackson said. He was holding aside a curtain. Within the cloth enclosure there was a large white lounge chair that two people could easily stretch out on.

Scott walked into the space, ran his fingers along the smooth material. Jackson followed, let the flap of the entrance close behind him. Soothing white light poured down from above them, filtered through the slightly swaying material of their own piece of heaven.

"Better," Scott said. He leaned forward into Jackson's embrace. The clinking of the chains attached to his wrists was too loud. Jackson rubbed his arms soothingly, led him over to stretch out and lie back in the chair.

"Up here you don't belong to me," Jackson whispered. "You can leave whenever you want."

Scott sighed as Jackson unbuckled the manacles around his wrists and let the metal fall. Fingers brushed against his throat to unhook the collar. Jackson let it fall to the ground too. Jackson's pale blue eyes looked vulnerable, afraid. Scott didn't want him to be afraid. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised.

Jackson smiled at him and ran a hand through his hair lightly. He didn't understand why Jackson was so scared, why his heartbeat was so erratic. Scott reached out and ran his thumb along a perfect cheek.

"It's just a fantasy," Jackson said under his breath. "We're going to wake up and everything will be like it was when we fell asleep."

Scott shook his head, he wanted to deny that. He didn't know if it was true, he didn't want it to be. Everything about the moment was perfect. He'd been afraid down in the garden, but up in the clouds he was safe. Jackson was keeping him safe. Down in the darkness they were together, up in the light they were together, it was just in the garden that things didn't work.

"I don't want to wake up," Scott said. "I want to stay up here with you."

Jackson leaned in to kiss him. Scott tried to lean forward but a strong arm pushed him back against the chair. Light touches danced along his stomach.

"Lay back, let me take care of you," Jackson said. "You're always trying to take care of everyone else, trying to save everyone. I'll be the one who takes care of you tonight, for as long as you'll let me."

Jackson's lips were soft. Down below, in smoke and shadow there had been so much fire Scott thought they'd both be consumed by it. Here, in the white mist and soft light, Jackson's skin was like a cool breeze against his fevered flesh. He closed his eyes, lost himself in the smooth silk of Jackson's mouth.

He shifted as Jackson's hand on his stomach withdrew, he wanted it back. Before he could protest though something light and gentle brushed across his skin, he looked down to see a single white feather in Jackson's hand.

"Soft," Scott whispered.

He closed his eyes. Jackson kissed him again as the feather trailed over his skin. Scott tried not to tremble under the teasing touches. Jackson released his mouth and kissed down the side of his neck. Tender trails of sensation danced over his body. He tried not to twitch as Jackson teased him with the feather. He whined into Jackson's hair, the sensation of the feather against his nipples was too much.

"Please," Scott begged. He wanted more. His wolf surged forward momentarily when Jackson unbuttoned the black leather pants that were too tight on Scott's hips. He wasn't wearing any underwear, the material had been too constricting for the boxers he'd had on at the beginning of the night. Jackson kissed him again as he freed him from his pants. Scott's wolf stumbled drunkenly in his mind as the feather ghosted over the slowly hardening flesh of his cock.

"You're perfect," Jackson whispered against his lips. "I could spend days worshipping your body, making you feel good."

Scott whined into Jackson's mouth as the feather glided over his skin. He trembled as it flowed from one place to another never staying anywhere for too long. His nipples, his twitching erection, his sensitive balls, Jackson explored them all. Scott's wolf tried to protest, but it still staggered, unable to process what was happening, knowing only that it wanted more but not how to get it.

"Please," Scott begged. "Jackson, I need..."

Scott didn't even know how long they'd been kissing, whispering words into each other mouths. His toes curled. He wanted to reach out and touch Jackson, to run his fingers over perfect pale skin.

"Put your arms above your head," Jackson said. "Keep them up for me; I'll make you feel so good."

Scott shook his head, he didn't know if he could endure it. Jackson was too good at playing his nerves. He did as he was asked, but he made soft pleading noises. He was so hard and Jackson wasn't giving him enough. The feather danced up his ribs, along his side and up further. Scott was shaking under the sensation.

"I-I c-can't…" Scott whimpered, "P-please..."

Jackson kissed him softly, they weren't battling for dominance. They weren't locked in a clash of tongues and teeth. Jackson was so gentle, so caring as he brushed their lips together.

"Alright," Jackson said, "I'll make you feel good."

Scott almost cried in relief when Jackson gripped him firmly. The feather had left his nerves raw; the tight fist closed around his dick was almost as good as Jackson's mouth, his kisses. Scott moaned, grunted, but Jackson was just swallowing all the noises he made, tugged him harder and kept kissing him like it was all he wanted.

"So good," Scott panted against Jackson's lips. "So close…"

Jackson worked him hard with his hand, kept pulling and twisting. Scott's belly ached with need; Jackson's lips were the only thing keeping him sane.

"Let it go," Jackson whispered.

Scott whimpered under the force of Jackson's grip, he tried to nip at Jackson's lips, but he couldn't. His wolf stumbled and collapsed in his mind, panting at the dual sensations of Jackson's tender mouth and rough hand. His body tensed up, he grunted as he spilled out his pleasure onto his own stomach. Jackson's inhale of breath was wet, pulled directly out of Scott's lungs. Scott whimpered, he groaned, and whined and Jackson drank down every noise like it was the only thing he needed to live. Only after Scott stopped shaking, only after Jackson had pulled every bit of pleasure out of him that he could did he release Scott's mouth.

"So good," Scott panted.

Jackson murmured his agreement as he licked Scott's stomach clean. Scott gasped when Jackson lapped at his spent cock, sucked the tip lightly to make sure he'd gotten everything. Scott pulled at Jackson until he climbed up into the chair, rolled onto his side so they were facing each other. Scott's wolf panted, tried to stagger to the front of his mind and collapsed again. It didn't matter, he would figure out what was wrong with him later, he would figure out why he could barely think eventually.

For the moment, all that mattered was that Jackson was with him, that Jackson wanted to keep kissing him, wanted to keep running soft fingers over his body. They were together, brushing against each other. It was enough.


	14. Stuck in the Middle

_**Earlier that night…**_

* * *

><p>Danny took the flask Jackson offered him. His friend had been drinking pretty heavily since they left the hotel to embark on the first task of the scavenger hunt. He knew where they were supposed to go, but he wasn't planning on ruining the game by revealing the answer to Jackson or Scott. He was glad that he'd ended up on the three person team. He'd have given hints to his partner if necessary if he was part of a two person team, but that was sort of like cheating. It wouldn't have been fair to his partner to not have any help though. Luckily it wasn't an issue now.<p>

"I don't understand this clue," Scott said. He waved away the offer to take the flask. Scott looked pretty torn up already. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who drank a lot. "Where are humans supposed to go to try to catch a glimpse of angels in San Francisco?"

Danny grinned, he was glad they'd gotten the envelope that included a clue to Angel Island Conservancy. He'd planned to visit the island in San Francisco Bay before leaving; now he could see it with Jackson. Jackson reached out to Danny for the flask, took a large gulp when Danny gave it back.

"Whatever. Danny, just tell us where we're supposed to go," Jackson said.

"That'd ruin the game." Danny frowned at Jackson. It wasn't like his friend to take a shortcut. He liked to win because he'd earned it.

"It's okay, Jackson. We'll win for sure," Scott said. He reached and patted Jackson's arm.

The pressure behind Danny's eyes increased minutely. Why was Scott touching Jackson so much? Danny walked faster to get between the two of them. He took the flask back from Jackson and took another drink. They'd already drained one of the flasks; Jackson mentioned having three. It must have been part of his arrangement with Stiles that he'd get some extra since he'd provided the alcohol in the first place.

"I don't know, I'll Google it on my phone." Jackson stumbled slightly as he reached into his pocket to retrieve the device.

Danny turned to look at Scott. The pressure was getting worse, he wondered if Stiles's brew was going to make him sick. He didn't feel nauseous. He didn't really have the words to describe what he was feeling.

"You look good tonight, hope you're ready to party," he told Scott.

Scott blinked at him. "Uh… thanks Danny," Scott said. He almost slammed into a trash can. Danny pulled him out of the way before he collided with it. Jackson turned cold eyes on him. Danny blinked, he let go of Scott. Jackson moved to stand between the two of them. What was Jackson upset about? Scott wasn't his property. If Scott wanted to walk next to Danny that was his choice.

"Found it," Jackson said. "There's a Heaven and Hell party at a club downtown." Jackson directed the comment to Scott.

Danny rolled his eyes. That wasn't the answer. He wasn't going to tell them though.

"What's a Heaven and Hell party?" Scott looked at the phone when Jackson held it out to him. He put his hand on Jackson's wrist to steady the screen as they were walking.

Danny ground his teeth. Why were they so close? It was like the only thing Scott could see was Jackson.

"It's a costume party according to the advertisement on the club's webpage." Jackson smiled at Scott. "I guess that means we need to find costumes."

Danny wanted to get back between them. The pressure in his head was getting worse. Why were they talking about costumes? The party was not the answer to the clue. He rubbed his eyes. Jackson reached for the flask again; Danny took a long gulp before handing it back.

Jackson sighed when he realized it was empty. "One more left," he said, "Scott, look up where we can find costumes."

"I can't afford a costume," Scott said as he took the phone from Jackson.

"I'll buy costumes for everyone," Jackson glanced at Danny. "You want to be an angel or a demon?"

Danny shrugged. He didn't want to dress up at all. "What do you think I should dress up as?" He looked at Scott as he asked the question, but Jackson answered immediately.

"You should be a demon, shake things up a bit." Jackson winked at Danny.

"I think you would look good in white," Scott said. "You guys should both be angels."

"I'm definitely going to be a demon," Jackson smirked at Scott. "I'm all demon."

"You should shake things up too." Scott pushed Jackson playfully.

Danny wanted to strangle his friend. The pressure was almost constant. He wanted to scream or howl. It was so frustrating. It was like he was invisible; Scott wasn't paying any attention to him at all. He shook his head. Why did he even care what Scott was doing? Jackson pushed Scott back. Danny almost growled at them. He shook his head again. What was wrong with him? Stiles's brew must have been more potent than he thought. He'd had three glasses like everyone else back at the hotel, but they'd finished two more flasks between them.

Jackson pulled out the last flask, took another drink then offered it to Danny. He waved it away. He'd had enough alcohol for the moment. He needed to figure out why he was so upset. Jackson and Scott used to hate each other. Danny hadn't been around either of them very much recently. He'd been too caught up in his breakup and the holidays. It was like Jackson had a new best friend now.

"I found a costume place," Scott said as he offered the phone back to Jackson.

"It's pretty close to here actually," Jackson said. Danny watched his friend tap at the phone until an artificial voice started giving them walking directions to the store.

"This is dumb," Danny said. "Are you guys sure this is what the clue is about?"

Jackson and Scott looked at each other and shrugged. Danny wanted to strangle them both. He reached out for the flask; if he was going to put up with them he was going to need more alcohol. Jackson handed it back to him with a silly grin. Danny wanted to punch him in the face. The worst part was he didn't know why.

Scott steadied Jackson when he tripped over his own feet. Danny cracked his knuckles. The pressure was back, every time Scott touched Jackson it got worse.

"You okay?" Scott looked at Danny, put a hand out to pat him on the back. "You look like you aren't having much fun." Scott grinned at him.

Danny grinned back. It was better when Scott was paying attention to him too. He just wasn't sure why. "Yeah I'm good," Danny said. For some reason, when Scott was paying attention to him he was fine.

Jackson and Danny kept passing the flask back and forth as they walked. It didn't take long for them to finish it off too. Scott occasionally would take another drink, but he wasn't consuming nearly the same amount they were. Scott opened the door to the shop and held it them when they arrived. Danny was about to thank Scott when he heard one of the stores employees call out a greeting.

"Hey guys, can I help you find anything today?"

Danny turned to look at the speaker, a guy about their age. He had dark auburn hair and bright blue eyes, a deeper shade than Jackson's. Danny opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't think of anything. The guy was cute. The tension in Danny's eyes eased considerably.

"We're going to a Heaven and Hell party," Jackson said.

"Well, my name's Oliver. I'll be glad to help you find whatever you need." The auburn haired boy gestured towards the back of the store. "Follow me, I'll show you what we've got."

Danny watched Oliver turn away with interest. There was something about the way the guy smelled that Danny liked. He followed without waiting for Jackson or Scott. Oliver was a pretty cool name, Danny wondered what his plans for the evening were after he got off work.


	15. Game of Secrets

Oliver watched in fascination as the three guys stumbled about the store. They were clearly already pretty well into the drinking festivities. He wondered if it was really alcohol or some other recreational drug. They seemed to waffle between stumbling drunk and fairly coherent. He glanced at his watch. He was off work in an hour, still time to get them squared away and decide what he'd be doing later.

"I'm going to be a demon," the blonde one said. "I'm the bad boy."

Oliver grinned. The shorter black haired guy was shaking his head obstinately. Oliver wondered how long the two had been dating. The taller black haired one seemed to be in an awkward position in the group, like he'd dated one or both of them in the past. Some groups liked to keep it in the circle, but in his opinion that was an easy way to end up hurt with no friends.

"You guys want some help? I could make some suggestions." He didn't want to rush them, but he didn't want them to spend the New Year's arguing about what they should wear and miss their party. "What club did you say the party was at?"

"Eden," the shortest of the three of them said. "It's a club called Eden."

Oliver grinned. They'd need to ratchet up the sex appeal if they wanted to get in there without getting carded. There was no way any of them were older than nineteen. They were either going to need to bribe their way in with money or be too hot to turn away. He couldn't help with the first solution but he could give them a shot with the second.

"Okay, but there's something you need to know about Eden." Oliver moved up closer to the trio. "It caters to a specific crowd." The blonde raised an eyebrow; he looked offended that a mere store employee would offer his opinion on their situation. He seemed like a douche. The tallest guy seemed interested in what Oliver was going to say though so he addressed him. "They're an eighteen and over bar, but sometimes they make… exceptions."

"I'm Danny," the tallest boy said. "You said your name was Oliver, right?"

"Yep. I can help you guys get in, but you're going to have to trust me." Oliver smiled even though the blonde was eyeing him suspiciously.

"That'd be awesome," the smallest guy said. "I'm Scott. That's Jackson."

"Alright, Scott, you come with me. We'll pick you out something first, then I'll get your friends while you're changing." Oliver grinned at the nervous glance Scott cast at his two buddies.

"Okay." Scott followed him to an adjacent aisle. He kept casting glances back towards his friends. The nervousness was adorable.

"So, what do you want to dress up as?"

"What do you think would look good on me? What do you think Jackson would like?" Scott fidgeted, ran his hands nervously over various costume pieces.

So that's how it was. Oliver wondered if Scott was tall enough to ride that ride. He grinned. He wondered how Danny fit in the triangle.

"I'm thinking we should put you in something dark. You've got this whole innocent boy next door thing that could be turned into something wicked with the right outfit." Oliver reached out and grabbed a pair of tight black leather pants. He eyed the shorter guy critically trying to judge his size.

Scott shifted nervously in place. "I don't think that's really my style."

This was going to be fun; Scott wasn't going to recognize himself in the mirror when Oliver was done with him. "Tell me, how do you feel about chains and collars?"

Scott's eyes got comically wide. "C-collars?" Scott glanced around, probably looking for an escape route. He rubbed his neck.

Oliver nodded. "I'm thinking we need to do something dramatic to pitch that good boy look." He led Scott down another aisle. "I'm thinking Jackson might like the idea of having you on a leash."

Scott let Oliver pile multiple costume pieces over his arms. He only protested for a few minutes when manacles with broken links were added to the mix. Scott was sort of a push over. Oliver liked it, liked dressing people up.

Clothes were something you could hide behind if you needed to, they could turn you into a different person even if it was only for a night. That's why he loved working in a costume store. In a way, it was like Oliver was helping grant people their wishes or fantasies. People would come in looking for a way to escape from their normal lives and he was able to help them. Sometimes being who you really were got boring, sometimes it was too hard. Everyone needed a break at one point or another.

He led Scott back to the dressing room and herded him inside. Danny and Jackson were standing on opposite sides of the aisle. They seemed determined not to talk to each other. Oliver wondered if they were fighting over Scott's affection. That'd suck for Danny because Scott seemed to be all about getting Jackson's approval.

"Alright, who's turn next?" Oliver addressed Danny, he wouldn't mind helping him get undressed. There was something exotic about him, and it helped that he was tall enough that Oliver had to look up to meet his gaze.

"I'm not dressing up," Danny said.

Oliver eyed him. That was going to be fun to crack. He smirked. He'd get Danny into something other than his normal clothes somehow. First he'd get Jackson out of the way; he'd already made a plan. It pretty much relied on Jackson being interested in what Scott might want him to wear though.

"That means you're up," Oliver said. He gestured for Jackson to follow him and turned away. He imagined the best way to deal with the seemingly arrogant blonde was to not give him a chance to open his pretty mouth.

Three hot guys walked into his store on New Year's Eve, that sort of made it seem like someone or something was playing a cosmic joke on him. Oliver grabbed a pair of white shoes and a pair of white jeans.

"I want to be a demon," Jackson said.

Oliver nodded. "Scott said he thought it'd be hot to see you as an angel. He's your boyfriend, right?" He looked over his shoulder in time to see Jackson look away trying to hide the color riding up his neck and face.

"No…"

"Trust me, you've got the perfect look for what I've got in mind," Oliver pointed at a rack with various styles of wings hanging from it. He rolled his eyes when Jackson ran his hands over a pair of black wings. "Let me give you some advice?"

Jackson looked at him as though he was trying to decide if he should glare or listen, he was probably too drunk to know the difference. "What?"

Oliver kept his face from showing the rush of victory. He loved to be right. "Scott seems like a nice kid. He's got that whole dopey everyone's buddy thing about him. You on the other hand have this arrogant thing going for you."

Jackson smiled as though it were a compliment. Oliver tried not to sigh, succeeded barely. He pulled off a pair of white feathered wings with a white leather harness. Jackson raised an eyebrow.

"So?"

"I think the key here is to do something different. Maybe the reason Scott's not your boyfriend is he's got an interest in innocence. You ever met anyone he dated in the past?" Oliver winced inwardly at Jackson's sudden scowl. He was on touchy ground.

"I don't care what Scott's into, I just want to look good," Jackson said.

"Alright, I've got an idea." Oliver headed down a different aisle and added a white sleeveless hooded shirt to the pile of clothes he'd picked out already.

"A hood?" Jackson's voice was curious.

Clearly Jackson thought his face was one of his best assets. He wasn't wrong, but sometimes hiding one of your best assets could make people want to see it. People loved secrets, loved having them and loved finding out the ones other people hid.

"Sometimes," Oliver said, "what you don't show can be just as important as what you do show. I'm thinking the trick with Scott might be shrouding the familiar with something a little more mysterious."

Oliver headed back to the dressing rooms in time to hear Scott's voice calling out uncertainly, "Danny? Is Oliver back yet?"

"I'm here," Oliver said. He gestured for Jackson to head into the second dressing room.

"There's no shirt with this outfit… and uh… my boxers don't fit in these pants." Scott sounded mortified.

Oliver chuckled when Jackson walked face first into the dressing room door. This was turning out to be perfect. "That's the idea." Scott started to protest, but Oliver was already leading Danny away from the dressing rooms while Jackson tried to remember how doors worked.

"I'm not dressing up," Danny said.

Danny was stubborn. Oliver liked a challenge. "Your boyfriend would probably like it." Oliver watched Danny out of his peripheral vision.

"I don't have a boyfriend." Danny's fists clenched at his sides. Anger practically radiated off him.

Oliver was on treacherous ground again. Either Danny was straight and Oliver's gaydar was faulty or there was some unresolved sexual tension between the three of them. Was it Jackson or was it Scott that Danny was into? Perhaps a compliment would get him back in Danny's good graces; he'd fish for a little more info too. "Did you hear that?"

Danny tilted his head curiously. It was adorable that Danny seemed to be genuinely listening. It was going to make his ultra-cheesy line so much better.

"Hear what?" Danny was so earnest Oliver almost wanted to think of something else to say, but it was too late and he didn't have anything else to go with.

"The sound of all those gay teens letting out relieved breaths." Oliver grinned, Danny blinked at him like he didn't get it at first. He would have loved to have met Danny when he was sober. He seemed like a fun guy.

Danny stepped into Oliver's personal space. The sudden shift in mood caused him to try to step back but there was nowhere to go without slamming into a display set. Oliver certainly hadn't been expecting that.

"Are you one of those teens?" Danny leaned in close, took a deep breath.

Oliver tried not to react, but there was only so much he could do with Danny towering over him. He wasn't as short as Danny's friend Scott, but all he could do with the tan teen so close was look up at him.

"Maybe I am? Do you want me to be?" Oliver liked games. He wondered if Danny liked games. "Let me pick out an outfit for you."

"How about we skip the outfit and you come with us tonight?" Danny countered. Something about his expression gave his eyes a predatory gleam. Oliver wasn't used to being the one who was pursued. This could turn into a very interesting game.

"Three secrets," Oliver said. "I'll go out with you when I get off if you promise to tell me three secrets by the end of the night."

Danny grinned. "If I dressed up how many secrets would I have to give up then?" It would seem that Danny did like games.

"One secret if I get to pick your outfit, two secrets if you pick it." Oliver smiled up at Danny. He refused to back away or push Danny out of his space. He wondered how much courage Danny had.

"What will it take for me to get your secrets?" Danny leaned in to whisper the question against Oliver's ear.

"Where's the challenge if I just tell you?" Oliver whispered back. He turned his head so his breath would tickle against Danny's neck.

"Challenge accepted." Danny stepped back. "I'm not dressing up, three secrets by the end of the night, but I bet you I'll get more than three out of you before the clock strikes midnight."

Oliver glanced at his watch. It was almost 9pm. Oliver had a lot of secrets, but he doubted Danny would be able to ferret out any of them.

"What happens if you lose?"

"Then I'll owe you a favor." Danny winked at him. Oliver liked the sound of that. "If I win though then you owe me a favor."

Oliver grinned; he just loved it when he played a game he couldn't lose.


	16. Bar Fight

The alley they were in was dank, reeked of garbage. Oliver told them to wait there for him to let them in. Danny tried to ignore Scott rubbing his fingers through the feathers of Jackson's wings. The pressure in Danny's eyes was back. It was infuriating, how all over each other they were. When Oliver was around it didn't seem to matter, when he was gone all he could think about was how Scott wasn't paying attention to him. Jackson ran his fingers over the leash hanging from Scott's neck. Jealousy scythed through Danny's mind. He took a step towards the two of them.

"Hey," Oliver's voice broke Danny out of whatever had seized control of his mind. "Let's go guys."

Danny turned to see Oliver holding the door open for them. He wondered how he'd gotten into the club so easily, how he had enough connections to get them in through a back entrance. It would be one of the secrets he needed to win their game. Oliver grinned at him and winked. Danny smiled; the mysterious costume shop employee seemed to have an idea what Danny was thinking. It was going to be a good night.

Jackson and Scott headed through the door. Danny was right behind them. Oliver had put some sort of cologne on when he changed for the party. Neither of them were wearing a costume, but whatever scent Oliver had put on was coiling in Danny's brain, made him want to find out what it tasted like.

He let Jackson and Scott make their way ahead towards the sound of music. He was more interested in getting closer to Oliver. He leaned into the boy's space, took a deep breath, delighted in the way Oliver trembled slightly. There was something about how Oliver was smaller than him that was driving Danny crazy.

"You smell wonderful," Danny said.

"Oh?" Oliver sounded a little breathless. "You're a very forward guy."

Danny grinned. He wasn't shy, but he had to admit to himself that he was acting different than he normally would. He didn't remember ever being so outspoken about how he felt. It wasn't like he had a lot of experience with guys, just one boyfriend and a handful of experimental experiences.

"I'm not very good at this," Danny confessed. "There's just something about you I really like."

Oliver's smile was mysterious. "I hope you don't think that counts as one of your secrets. There's no way I would believe that you weren't _very_ good at this."

Danny stepped back out of Oliver's space. He wasn't sure what he was going to tell Oliver in regards to secrets. He didn't want to bring up his criminal past. That was a great way to scare someone away. He had no intention of saying 'hey I'm awesome at stalking people via the internet'. Oliver would run before the words finished leaving his mouth.

Pressure roiled through his brain, a sharpness that caused him to rub his eyes. The thought of wanting to chase Oliver dried out his mouth. He shook his head against the sensation. There was something wrong with him. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was getting worse.

"You okay?" Oliver's hands were cool against Danny's fevered skin. "What are you on tonight? It's not just alcohol is it?"

Danny brushed the soothing hands away from his forehead. "A guy I know brewed some crazy concoction in his father's storage unit. I've had a lot of it tonight."

Oliver's cool hand took Danny's warm one, pulled him towards the sound of the music. "Let's get you some water." Oliver looked over his should and smiled, it made Danny's stomach tingle. "That's one; I have to say that being desperate enough to drink home brewed booze is a secret worth keeping."

They came out of the back room into some sort of hybrid between a dance club and a botanical garden. Pulsing music obliterated Danny's thoughts. Luscious plants, damp heat, and the smell of sweet flowers danced along his senses. He brushed his hands along the long green leaves as Oliver pulled him towards the bar. The leaves were soft and silky but Danny liked the feel of Oliver's hand more than the foliage.

The bartender looked curiously at their clasped hands. Danny wondered who she was. Oliver leaned across the bar to whisper into her ear. Oliver pointed across the club; Danny looked in that direction and saw Jackson and Scott wandering around aimlessly. They looked lost and confused; Jackson had his hands on one of Scott's manacle chains. The bartender's eyes darted from them towards Danny momentarily, a wicked grin playing across her features for a moment. He growled when Oliver kissed her on the cheek and she returned the gesture.

Growling… he was growling. Thankfully no one would have been able to hear it over the music. What the hell was wrong with him? He was going to strangle Stiles for giving him that hideous brew. If he started growing excessive body hair Stiles wasn't going to see graduation.

The girl behind the bar handed him a bottle of water. Danny nodded his thanks; he gulped down half of it, then set it down and tried not to notice the girl's eyes roving over Oliver's body while he glanced across the dance floor. Danny followed his gaze and noticed Jackson disappearing down a staircase, probably following Scott.

Oliver turned away from the bar, pulled him towards the middle of the dance floor. He shook his head in protest, tried to halt Oliver's progress. The shorter boy turned to see what the problem was, pressed their bodies together as he got up on the tips of his toes and turned his head to the side so he could hear whatever he was going to say. Danny leaned in, barely resisted the urge to lick along Oliver's exposed neck.

"I can't dance. That's my second secret." Danny had to repeat himself several times before Oliver seemed to understand. The auburn haired boy shook his head, gripped both of Danny's hands and walked backwards. Danny licked his lips nervously.

Oliver leaned forward, used a cool hand to grip the back of Danny's neck to pull his head down. "Doesn't count," Oliver breathed into Danny's ear. "No guy thinks he can dance. It's not that much different from sex though."

The words tickling his ear and the sudden friction of Oliver rolling his hips forward into Danny's body made his stomach flutter again. Danny shifted nervously, let Oliver guide his hands to where he wanted them. Danny threaded his fingers through the belt loops on Oliver's jeans; he took the grinding of Oliver's hips into him as encouragement.

He let the music pour down over him, let Oliver curl one hand into his shirt. He liked the other one where it was, gripped tightly to the back of his neck. Oliver's fingers rubbed along the bumps of his spine. Danny was out of his element, reeling from the sensory onslaught of the club and Oliver's body against him. He could barely think. They danced, or really Oliver danced on him. When the song came to an end Danny didn't know if it was too soon or hadn't been quick enough.

"You okay?" Oliver leaned in close to him.

Danny nodded. "Is there somewhere we can talk that's a little quieter?"

Oliver nodded; he stepped back out of Danny's personal space. Danny regretted it immediately. He caught Oliver's hand as the boy started to walk away. Oliver grinned over his shoulder, tugged him along towards a door on the far side of the dance floor. It was marked as being for employees only.

They passed through the door into what seemed like some sort of utilities closet. There were power cables and switches all along one of the walls. Oliver turned towards him, walked backwards till he was up against the opposite wall. The door closed, cut off the sound from outside.

"You want me to go get you some more water?" Oliver asked.

Danny crowded him up against the wall, pressed their bodies together. Oliver tilted his head back so he could look up into Danny's face, dark blue eyes full of interest at the shift in mood.

"I like you right here," Danny said. "I'm curious how you're so familiar with the club and the staff." Oliver gave another mysterious smile, but didn't respond. Danny thought it through. Oliver got them into the club, knew the bartender, and no one rushed to stop them from entering the room. Either the staff wasn't paying close attention or more likely Oliver worked for the club in some capacity or at least knew the staff. "You work here don't you?"

Oliver shrugged. "Something like that."

"I doubt you're old enough to be a bartender. So what? Like a dancer or something?" Danny thought Oliver seemed pretty good on the dance floor, not that he was a great judge of that sort of thing.

"You got me, that's one secret. Hopefully it doesn't make you think less of me. I strip here sometimes." Oliver said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, almost as if he was daring Danny to take issue with it. "It's not easy living in San Francisco on a retail employee's wages alone."

"I'm guessing you also know the bartender pretty well. The girl who kissed you, it seemed like something was going on there, or maybe had gone on in the past." Danny was fishing for information. He thought he was on the track to another secret.

Oliver broke eye contact, glanced towards the floor to the side of them. "Yeah, we had a thing when I first came to town. I'm kind of bi." Oliver nervously brought his gaze back up, blue eyes searching Danny's face for some sort of negative reaction. "That a problem?"

"I think I just got two secrets out of you," Danny said with a grin. He reached around Oliver's waist, hoisted him into the air as he pinned him harder against the wall. Oliver's legs reflexively wrapped over his thighs, his arms tightened around Danny's shoulders.

Oliver winced slightly when his back hit the wall. "I guess you did…"

"You okay? Is this okay?" Danny was a little worried he'd taken it a little too far. Oliver's reaction when his back touched the wall was curious.

"You're fine; I like guys who are aggressive. One of the main things I like actually." Oliver's nails scraped lightly along the back of Danny's neck. "I wouldn't have brought you in here if I didn't want something to happen."

Some part of Danny wanted to protest what was happening. He wasn't the kind of guy who just got off with a stranger in the back room of a club. There was something about Oliver that he really liked though.

"I'm…" Danny didn't know how to finish. He closed his eyes, didn't want Oliver to see the fear in his eyes.

The boy in his arms pulled his head forward; Danny leaned in further so his forehead was almost against the wall. Oliver whispered against his ear, "You're fine. I'm not thinking anything negative. It's like a fantasy. One night, a story your friends will think you made up. I like it, being your fantasy. I'll be whoever you want me to be tonight."

There was more to Oliver's voice than the words, something just under the surface that Danny couldn't quite pin down, but he couldn't think clearly. Oliver rolled his hips; Danny felt how interested Oliver was in the situation. He braced his legs and leaned forward more, sharing Oliver's weight with the wall.

Oliver hissed under his breath when Danny pressed harder into his body. A warm, wet mouth closed on Danny's neck, he bucked his hips forward. He was just as hard as Oliver was. The position was good, they were pressed together, groins lined up perfectly.

Danny pushed forward harder, Oliver squirmed in his arms, hips twisting and thrusting back in short movements. Teeth scraped Danny's neck, wet tongue followed as Oliver sucked at his collarbone. Danny groaned, the room was hot, he could feel sweat rolling down his forehead. He thrust harder. This was good, it was safe, having sex with a stranger was dangerous, he didn't know Oliver very well and even under the haze of what he was feeling he wanted to play it safe.

"You taste good," Oliver whispered against his neck, the arms around Danny's shoulders tightened further. "Tell me your second secret."

Danny couldn't think, he was too hard, there was too much heat. He captured Oliver's mouth, nibbled at his lips until Oliver opened up for him. Danny sucked at the tongue that darted against his lips, ground his hips harder. Oliver's nails dug into his neck.

"I-I…" Danny started to say, grasping for something, some secret he could share with Oliver. He'd promised three, but he wasn't that interesting of a guy, shady criminal past aside. "I write slash fiction."

As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted saying it. He should have gone with the hacking thing. Oliver was going to think he was a nerd. Oliver's hips twitched against his. Danny imagined he could feel the heat of Oliver's dick through their jeans. His mouth started to water.

"What's that?" Oliver gasped out.

Danny dug his nails into Oliver's hips. "Seriously?" Danny panted. "Is now the time?"

They were practically pulling air out of each other's mouths to whisper the trembling words to each other. Oliver bit at his lower lip, caught it between his teeth, pulled roughly then licked over the place he'd bitten after letting him go.

"You promised to… nnngggh…" Oliver panted, resting his forehead on Danny's shoulder before continuing, "To tell…"

All of Danny's muscles were starting to ache. He was in shape, he was in really good shape, but holding up a guy, even one Oliver's size and trying to dry hump him through a wall was taking its toll. He was so close though.

"Stories… I write stories," He bit lightly on Oliver's earlobe, exalted in the tremble that passed through the smaller guy's body. "Erotic stories, about television shows, and books, and stuff…"

"Is this going to be a story you write?" Oliver asked, voice shaking and sounding out of breath. "You going to write something based off me?"

Danny couldn't think anymore, he bit down on Oliver's neck. Fire erupted in his brain, something primal and animalistic. He moaned into Oliver's shoulder as he sucked and bit at the pale skin. The fire in his brain went down his spine and pooled in his abdomen. Spasms wracked his body, he couldn't hold back anymore. He came hard enough that he thought he was going to pass out. His legs started shaking with the force of his release. His muscles ached.

Oliver let out a wet gasp, his body started shaking, twitching uncontrollably. "So good," he panted into Danny's shoulder. "I wasn't expecting it to be like that."

Danny couldn't hold them up anymore. He pulled away from the wall, tried to set Oliver down. The smaller guy stumbled slightly when he was on his feet, fell back against the wall. He emitted a pained gasp when his back hit the cement. Danny opened his mouth to ask if he was alright but the door behind him opened.

"What the fuck?" An angry male voice rose up over the music that suddenly poured into the small room.

Danny turned to see a large man, skin flushed red with anger. He charged into the room, pushed Danny to the side with enough force that he lost his footing and went down.

"Fuck off," Oliver hissed out as the man grabbed his arm and started pulling him out of the room. "I don't owe you any explanation, Mike."

Danny watched as the man pulled Oliver out, he was stunned. He didn't know what to do. Pressure unlike anything else he'd experienced blossomed behind his eyes. Who did that person think he was? Oliver didn't want to go with him. Danny got to his feet. The man pulled Oliver across the dance floor towards the hall that led to the alley. Fury boiled up in Danny's chest when he saw the look of fear in Oliver's blue eyes. The man pushed him into the hallway and out of Danny's sight.

He rushed out of the room towards where they'd gone. He glanced at the bartender, saw that she had a phone out and was looking the way Oliver had been taken. He hoped she was calling the police. He barely noticed that she was leaving her position behind the bar and heading up the stairs that led to the second level of the club. He barreled down the hall just in time to see the door to the alley closing.

He pushed the door open. There were three men, all clearly drunk. One of them was holding Oliver as the guy named Mike raised a fist. Danny leapt down the stairs and slammed into the closest of the three.

Everything became chaos. There was so much shouting that he wasn't sure what was going on. A fist slammed into his jaw. He pushed at a body that pushed him up against the wall. He saw a knife. Fear snared his mind, paralyzed him.

The sound of glass shattering drowned out every other noise. Danny looked towards the sound to see Jackson dropping from the second story of the building. Danny had to be hallucinating. Jackson's jeans were torn; one of his wings had been ripped off. Blood streamed from tiny cuts all over his body. Haunting emerald light flickered in his eyes, a roar tore through the night and froze Danny's blood.

The man who had the knife turned. "What the fuck?" He rushed towards Jackson. Danny's mouth fell open in shock when Jackson caught the knife in his hand, completely disregarded the blood that dripped from where it cut into him.

"Holy shit," someone screamed, Danny thought it might have been Mike. He turned towards the sound in time to see Scott drop to the ground from the same window Jackson had smashed through. He glanced up to see the female bartender looking out with her hands covering her mouth. She was shaking her head like she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

Danny empathized; he couldn't understand what he was seeing either. Jackson hurled the man with the knife against the wall nearest to him. Danny thought he heard the sound of snapping bones.

The man holding Oliver pushed him against the wall and turned to rush towards his friend. Scott rose from the crouch he was in. His eyes erupted with yellow light. Danny wanted to say something, but he didn't know what. Scott looked every bit a demon from hell. Fangs, claws, and hair that he shouldn't have sprouted from his body, he emitted a roar that put Jackson's to shame. It made Danny's bones shake.

Everyone froze. Sirens filled the silence that had suddenly overtaken the alley in the wake of Scott's challenge. He shook his head and all those strange things about his features faded away right before Danny's eyes. One moment Scott had been the image of furious retribution, the next he was just a kid in a demon costume.

Danny glanced towards where Oliver was. Mike was holding him by the front of his shirt, but he wasn't moving. Jackson dropped the bloody knife into a dumpster not far from where he was standing. Mike and his friends looked around, clearly thinking about running.

A cop car pulled into the front of the alley. Police jumped out and leveled guns towards them. "Everyone freeze," an officer yelled.

No one was moving. Danny wasn't sure he could move if he wanted to. Mike seemed to be the first one to recover. "They're monsters," he said. He pointed at Jackson and Scott.

The cops looked at the two boys in their costumes. The one who had yelled pulled out a radio and spoke into it, "Nothing big, just a bunch of drunks brawling it out in an alley. Same shit every year on New Year's. We're bringing them in."

No one argued. Several more cop cars arrived on the scene. Everyone was piled into cars. Danny happened to end up in the same one as Oliver.

"Why did you come after me?" Oliver looked up at Danny through long black eyelashes.

"It's better when we're together, it's more fun that way," Danny said. He smiled at the look of shock in Oliver's face. "We never got to finish the game."

"I think that whole thing with your friends… I think that counts as your third secret," Oliver said.

Danny nodded. He didn't know what was going on, but he was going to make Jackson explain it. Somewhere in the back of his head he heard his own voice as he spoke to Stiles in the storage unit, '_Why would you care about a bogus recipe for getting werewolves drunk anyway? You know a lot of werewolves or something?'_


	17. Charity Request

"What was it that we were looking for again?" Stiles couldn't remember what they were doing. He gripped the hem of Derek's shirt, pulled him in for a kiss. Derek stumbled slightly, Stiles barely managed to keep them both standing. The kiss was sloppy and wet. Sloppy and wet was still good.

"I left the envelope in the cab," Derek said. "I was too distracted." Derek tucked his hands into Stiles's back pockets. Stiles pulled Derek's head to the side, bit lightly at his neck. Derek grunted, but let Stiles do what he wanted. Derek was drunk; Stiles personally thought it was hilarious.

"What did you do to those drinks?" Derek sounded like an angry puppy.

Stiles grinned, thought it was adorable. He bit harder at Derek's neck, tried to keep him from asking questions. Derek was a handsy drunk. Stiles approved. "Stuff… Not a big deal." Stiles distracted Derek with a kiss.

He wasn't sure exactly why they'd decided to go to the University of San Francisco. Stiles thought it had to do with the scavenger hunt, but he couldn't remember what they were looking for, it had something to do with books.

"Excuse me, may we ask you a question?"

Stiles pushed Derek away, turned to regard a group of girls that had stopped a few feet from them. Derek staggered slightly. Stiles pushed him up against the wall of the building they were next to. Derek stroked his wrist, fingers playing with the seashell bracelet. "Sup?" He shook his head, he probably should have tried to sound more intelligent in front of a group of college girls.

"We're looking for guys to take part in a charity event tonight." The speaker was a cute blonde girl. Stiles wondered what the charity was for. He liked helping people. Derek liked… stuff that he liked, so he could probably be convinced to help.

"Yeah? What's the charity for?" Stiles turned his back to Derek, leaned against him to hold him against the wall. Derek was hopeless, what would he ever do without Stiles to keep him in line?

"It's called 'Give Water, Give Life'. It's to help countries without clean drinking water." The girl eyed Derek and him, assessed them like they were horses she was thinking about buying.

Stiles liked water. Derek liked water too. He was sure they could help. Derek tucked his hands into the front pockets of Stiles's jeans.

"Sure, what do you want us to do?" Stiles tried to ignore Derek's pawing. One of the girls giggled. Stiles smiled at her. She blushed and turned away. Derek bit the side of his neck.

"We're looking for male strippers."

Stiles nodded, he liked taking his clothes off. Derek liked taking his clothes off too. They liked taking each other's clothes off; it was like they were meant for this charity. It seemed like a reasonable thing to help the people who had no water. The mead made everything seem so clear.

"Derek, did you hear what she said?"

"Busy…"

Stiles used his head to push Derek's face away from his neck. "We'd love to help give people water. What do we need to do?"

The girl handed him a flyer. "Just show up here, pick a song, I'm sure we can get it if we don't already have it. You show up, you strip to the song, the tips you get go to the charity. You get free food and free alcohol."

"Awesome." Stiles liked music, he also liked dancing, booze, and food. Derek… liked stuff that he liked. He was sure they'd figure it out. He glanced down at the flyer. It had the address of a house on campus.

"Thanks, my sisters and I are looking forward to you both performing."

Stiles blinked at the assembly of girls. They didn't look like sisters. One of the girls was staring at Derek, banging him with her eyes. Stiles was not pleased with the little harpy. He growled at her, turned and kissed his boyfriend. Derek was all for the sudden shift in mood, picked him up, spun around and pinned him against the wall. Stiles was trying to prove that Derek was his, the impromptu wolf hug was perfect.

"T-thanks ladies," Stiles said as Derek nipped at his neck. "We'll be sure to get a lot of water for the countries!"

The girls laughed as they continued on their way. He tried to push Derek away from him so they could talk about dancing for water. Derek was having none of it; he got a thigh between Stiles's legs.

"Derek," Stiles whined at the friction against his groin.

"Mhmm," Derek mumbled.

"Derek!"

Stiles sighed when Derek's hands got under his shirt. They were supposed to talk about the sisters and their water; they were not supposed to be getting sexy in public. Danny was going to be mad they ignored his game. Through the haze of alcohol over his mind Stiles began to reason that Danny would understand. That he'd want them to help the sisters.

"Derek we need to help the sisters with their water!" Stiles tried to push him away.

Derek caught hold of Stiles's hand, sucked one of his fingers into his mouth. Stiles tried desperately to think, but it was impossible with Derek's tongue caressing him. He sighed when Derek released him.

"What sisters?"

"The ones who were just here, including the one who as trying to sex you with her brain, you know, they asked us to be strippers."

Derek seemed to think that Stiles was asking him to take his clothes off. He swatted Derek's hands away from his belt buckle. Derek let out a feeble puppy growl, pulled at Stiles's shirt.

"I'll strip you." Derek had a one track mind, Stiles normally approved of that, but he needed to think about the charity.

"The water, Derek…" Stiles's protest sounded weak. His heart wasn't really in it.

"Don't want to go swimming…"

Stiles sighed again; Derek had been driven insane by the wolves' mead. He doubted there was anything he could do about it. He might as well just embrace the inevitable and give Derek what he wanted. He was such a good person, everyone was wrong about him being a terrible person. He was giving, very giving.

"If I give you some sweet loving can we help the people get the water?"

Derek pushed him harder against the wall. Something in Stiles's brain flipped. He growled again, got his fingers through the loops of Derek's jeans. He spun the werewolf, slammed him up against the wall. Derek made a shocked noise when Stiles bit him. If he had been less drunk Stiles would have been amused at the fact that he'd finally performed an impromptu wolf hug on Derek.

"Listen," Stiles commanded.

Derek's eyes flickered with violet light then settled back to their normal green. The werewolf shook his head in confusion. Stiles grabbed the collar of Derek's shirt, pulled him down so they were forehead to forehead.

"What?" Derek's eyes were dialated, he seemed really interested in Stiles's face. He stuck out his tongue and tried to lick Stiles's nose.

Stiles dodged the tongue. "I'm going to drag you someplace relatively quiet. I'm going to make you howl my name loud enough that people will think about calling the police."

"I like it," Derek whispered. He tilted his head for a kiss.

Stiles nipped his lips. "Tonight we're doing things my way, and my way includes helping with the water!" He grinned; he wasn't sure what had gotten into him. He liked it though. Derek seemed to like it too. He grabbed the front of Derek's shirt, hauled him along the street. There was a park a block up ahead. It was probably closed after dark. Stiles was sure he could find a quiet place to make Derek beg for something.


	18. Promises

Derek grunted, gripped the picnic table harder. Stiles licked against the back of his neck, tightened the grip he had around Derek's dick. The table moved slightly as Derek rested more of his weight against it.

"One more," Stiles whispered against Derek's skin. "One more and then I'll let you have what you want."

Derek groaned. He ground his teeth as Stiles continued to twist and pull. Stiles had said that last time. "What about the sisters and their water?" Derek tried to get Stiles to think about something else. Wet heat trailed up behind his ear, Derek shivered. Stiles got a fist full of Derek's hair, pulled his head back. The teenager had been acting oddly all night, Derek wasn't displeased with Stiles's aggressive behavior, he just wasn't sure where it'd come from.

"We'll get to it," Stiles said. "We've still got time."

Derek knew there was something wrong with him too, he just didn't care. His mind felt fuzzy, his awareness blunted. He could barely smell Stiles, could only faintly make out his heartbeat. If he didn't know better he'd think he was drunk.

Stiles pushed his groin against Derek's ass, he was hard, he'd gotten hard during Derek's first orgasm, had stayed hard through the second, now he wanted a third. Derek let his head fall forward, looked down to see Stiles's pale hand wrapped around his swollen erection.

The park seemed empty, they hadn't found anyone else as Stiles scouted for a place where they could have some alone time. Derek had thought he was going to fuck Stiles on top of the table; he hadn't been expecting to be held against it and tortured. They weren't even naked; Stiles had just unzipped him and went to town with his talented fingers.

"You're killing me." Derek grunted again, Stiles's grip got tighter, both on his dick and in his hair.

"Turn around," Stiles commanded.

Derek got harder at the tone of Stiles's voice. He did as he was asked, dizziness sweeping over him for a second. He staggered, but Stiles pushed him back against the table.

"What do you want me to do?"

Stiles grinned at him. "Come here, sit up on the table."

Derek stumbled around from the end of the table, stepped up onto the bench, tried to ignore how hard he was even though Stiles had already gotten him off twice. Firm hands on his hips guided him up so that he was sitting on top of the table, legs spread wide. Stiles guided his feet apart, then sat down on the bench, legs under the table. His face was so close to Derek's cock, caused it to twitch and beg for more attention. Derek reached out, wanted to stroke Stiles's neck.

"Hands on the table," Stiles said, he slapped Derek's reaching hand away to drive his point home.

Derek groaned, dropped his hands to rest on the top of the rough table. Stiles was going to be the death of him. A hot tongue traced up the vein on the underside of his dick, Stiles firmly gripped him at the base, mouthed and kissed the tip.

"Fuck," Derek grunted.

"Shhh, don't want anyone to interrupt us."

Wet kisses trailed all over his aching cock, Stiles was doing everything he could to get Derek to beg for more. Slick heat enveloped him; he looked down, watched Stiles's head bob in his lap. It was too much, too soon. He was still overly sensitive from Stiles working him so hard with his hand. Stiles pulled back, Derek grunted as his pink tongue darted out, lapped at the tip of his dick.

"Come on, Derek, give me what I want." Stiles kissed the tip of Derek's dick, licked it again. "You said you always would."

Derek closed his eyes, felt his balls drawing tight, heat curling in his abdomen. Stiles went back to sucking at him with fervor. Tight heat pulled at him, he gripped the edge of the table, bucked his hips up. Stiles groaned, sucked harder still.

"Please, Stiles," Derek begged, "Just a little bit more."

Stiles looked up at him, brown eyes blown open. His lips were red and swollen. Derek couldn't take anymore; it would have been painful if it wasn't exactly what he needed. He thrust erratically against Stiles's mouth, practically howling out as he came. Blood was pounding in his ears, he couldn't get enough air into his lungs, pleasure shattered him, tore him apart.

He fell back, head hanging off the other side of the table. Stiles swallowed around him, licked and sucked, made sure to get everything he could. Derek's body twitched under his enthusiasm. Derek grunted as Stiles released him from his mouth, gasped when Stiles lapped at his spent dick. "Too much."

"Please, Derek, just a little bit more. I'm so close." Stiles sounded desperate.

"I thought I was going to get to take care of you when you were done with me." Derek lifted his head to look at Stiles.

The dark haired boy moaned against him, Derek could see his shoulders shaking, could hear how desperately he was jerking himself off. Derek started to sit up, wanted to get down on his knees and take care of Stiles's needs.

Stiles looked up, got his free hand under Derek's shirt, against Derek's stomach, nails dragging down his abdomen. "Stay still," Stiles said. "So close, please, just stay there." Stiles's body trembled; he sucked Derek's soft cock back into his mouth as he tugged himself towards completion.

Derek was awed by it, how desperate Stiles looked, how much he seemed to need to be allowed to take his pleasure the way he wanted to. Stiles was beautiful and wanton. Derek could never say no to him anyway.

"Come on, baby, let it go," Derek urged. He wanted to see Stiles in that moment of ecstasy, wanted to see Stiles lost in the pleasure.

Stiles let his head fall forward against Derek's thigh, made a high pitched whine high in his throat as his body seized up. They laid there for a few minutes as they both caught their breath. Stiles eventually got his hands around Derek again, he was about to protest but Stiles just tucked him back into his pants, zipped him up.

"Let's go, Derek. We've got to go help the sisters."

Derek grunted. There was no reason Stiles should have so much energy, it was practically inhuman. He got off the table. Stiles grabbed his shirt, pulled him into a fierce kiss. Derek gripped Stiles's wrist, brought the hand that Stiles had used to pleasure himself to his mouth, licked against the palm, sucked at each of the fingers.

Stiles let out a tiny growl of approval, the noise shocked Derek. There was something definitely odd about their behavior. Stiles pulled his hand free, gripped Derek's belt buckle and started pulling him back towards the street, walking backwards and looking up into Derek's face with hungry eyes.

"Come on, we've got to take our clothes off for water."

It didn't really make sense to Derek; especially the way Stiles was saying it. It didn't matter though, Stiles was right, he'd told the teenager he'd give him whatever he wanted. He'd just never thought Stiles would want him to take his clothes off in front of a bunch of college girls. He staggered again, dizziness sweeping over him. Stiles kept him steady though, placed a soft kiss against his neck before nipping him.

"Don't worry, Derek, I've got you," Stiles said.


	19. For the Water

Stiles had never seen so many girls in once place. The strippers and the staff were the only dudes he there. The sisters of Psi Kappa Sigma were holding the party at a local bar they frequented. Stiles was afraid some of them wanted to eat Derek. He empathized with them, but there was no way he was letting any of them take Derek home to participate in a sorority pillow fight.

Derek somehow seemed to be getting more wasted even though he'd not had anything aside from water to drink after they'd left the hotel earlier in the night. Stiles grinned. His wolves' mead had been a roaring success.

He was supposed to go after Derek in the rotation, he hoped no one laughed, he wasn't going to be much of a follow up act considering how hot Derek was. The stage was right next to the bar, looked the like they used it for karaoke or live bands normally. It wasn't large, not a lot of room to maneuver. That was probably for the best, Stiles hadn't really learned to dance so much as grind on other people. That's what Allison had taught him, that's what Derek did to him whenever they had a few spare moments. He was good with that. He was suddenly not feeling so good about the plan. He wanted to help the sisters get their water, but he wasn't sure he was going to do a good job of it.

The first guy who'd gone up was decent. He was okay looking, his moves weren't bad. Stiles wasn't familiar with the song that went with it. Derek was watching the stage. It sort of looked like he was trying to remember how to scowl. Stiles grinned. It wasn't even really a frown so much as a pout. Derek seemed to be rethinking the plan.

"You're next," Stiles said. "You ready?"

Derek shook his head. The DJ gestured for Derek to head out onto the stage. Stiles bit his lower lip. He couldn't wait to see what Derek was going to do. As soon as the brooding werewolf was on the stage the bar went wild. Girls started shrieking, the music hadn't even started yet. Derek looked back at him. Stiles gave him double thumbs up. Derek's pout got minutely scowlier.

The music started, Def Leapord's _Pour Some Sugar on Me Baby_. The DJ had to turn up the sound system so it could be heard over the roaring sorority girls. Stiles waited for Derek to do something. Derek didn't do anything. He just stood there. Stiles rolled his eyes. The girls quieted down. It was a disaster. Derek wasn't earning any water at all. Clearly Stiles needed to take action.

He leaned over to the DJ, yelled into his ear to switch the song to Nine Inch Nail's _Closer_. If the girls wanted a show, Stiles would deliver. He'd make sure every person got the water they needed. The music cut off. The girls started murmuring. Derek looked frozen in place, and a little green around the edges.

Stiles walked out on the stage. It was going to be the most awesome moment of his life, either that or Derek was going to kill him. He wasn't sure which one. Derek had seemed fairly pliable so far, maybe he'd be able to push his boyfriend just a little bit further.

"Sorry ladies, Derek here has a little bit of stage fright," Stiles said. "Anyone mind if I help him out a little bit?"

The girls whispered to each other. Stiles walked closer to Derek, the werewolf immediately reached out and gripped him by the back of the neck, pulled him close so they were chest to chest. It was a start.

"This was a terrible idea," Derek growled.

Stiles could barely hear him over the sudden cheering of the girls. He looked out at the crowd, winked at them. He put his hands on Derek's hips, lined up their groins. Wild applause rang through the room.

"All you have to think about," Stiles said, "Is how much you want to fuck me. How much I want you to."

Derek's mouth fell open. Stiles leaned in and took advantage, stretched up on the tips of his toes to nip at Derek's lips. Cheers started at the same time as the song. The music poured over Stiles, triggering something primal in him.

_You let me violate you  
>You let me desecrate you<br>You let me penetrate you  
>You let me complicate you<em>

Stiles rolled his hips, leaned his head back. Derek immediately got in the game, bit roughly at his exposed throat. Stiles moved with the music, teasing Derek by moving away when the werewolf got his hands under his shirt. Derek followed, got another grip on Stiles's clothing and pulled him back in. Derek seemed to be trying to maul him more than dancing, but the girls seemed to be liking it so that was good.

Stiles raised his arms, let Derek pull both of the shirts he was wearing off in one smooth motion. He turned, brought his back against Derek's chest. He rocked back into him, reached back to run his hands through his boyfriend's hair. Derek's hands roamed over his naked chest, brushed against one of his nipples playfully. Stiles bit his lips, tried not to notice all the girls staring at them.

_I wanna fuck you like an animal  
>I wanna feel you from the inside<br>I wanna fuck you like an animal  
>My whole existence is flawed<em>

Derek snapped his hips against Stiles's ass. The plan was working, money was getting tossed out onto the stage. Stiles grinned, turned to face his boyfriend. Derek's eyes were hooded, the mesmerizing green barely visible. Stiles curled his fingers in Derek's shirt, slowly pulled it up and off. He dropped it to the stage, ran his fingers over perfect muscles.

Stiles sank down to his knees, stroked his hands over Derek's thighs. He was lost in the music, lost in the sensation. He forgot that the girls were even there. He tucked his fingers behind Derek's belt buckle. Derek reached down, and stroked his hair. Stiles undid the belt, pulled it free from Derek's jeans with a sharp tug.

He leaned forward; Derek took a few steps back. Stiles licked his lips as Derek unbuttoned his jeans; he followed Derek's fingers with his eyes as the werewolf slowly unzipped. Stiles got back to his feet, mirrored Derek's actions, undid his own pants. There wasn't really any sexy way to get out of jeans, especially since they hadn't been wearing like, tear away stripper pants or anything, but it didn't really matter.

_Help me tear down my reason  
>Help me; it's your sex I can smell<br>Help me; you make me perfect  
>Help me become somebody else<em>

They moved together again, turned so they were back to back as they slid their jeans down and stepped out of them. The air was hot, the sound of the music and the women in the room obliterated everything else, but even with that, somehow it was almost like they were alone. They were moving for each other, caught up in the rhythm.

Derek gripped his wrist, guided Stiles's hand up as he moved against his back. The wet heat of Derek's mouth on the back of his neck made his spine quiver. Stiles reached back with his other hand, raked blunt nails over Derek's stomach. He let Derek turn him around again so they were face to face. Strong arms reached around him, swallowed him up as Derek lifted him off the stage. Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek's waist, leaned his head back again to give Derek more room to lap at his neck.

_I wanna fuck you like an animal  
>I wanna feel you from the inside<br>I wanna fuck you like an animal  
>My whole existence is flawed<em>

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek's shoulders, got a hand in the back of his hair. The music was winding down, but the girls were still going wild. He figured they should end with a bang. He parted his lips, flicked his tongue out to wet them as he locked eyes with Derek. Their kiss was fierce, all passion and need. Derek let his thighs go; Stiles got his feet back on the stage, slowly slid to his knees as the song came to an end. His tongue trailed down Derek's chest, brushed against the waistband of Derek's underwear at the final note.

On his knees, fingers tucked just barely under the sides of Derek's boxer briefs, he looked up. Derek's eyes were dilated, looking down at him with so much hunger it made Stiles's stomach flutter. Applause filled the small bar; Derek pulled him back to his feet.

The situation came crashing down on him. His face felt hot, he turned and gave a small smile to the crowd. Stiles quickly gathered their clothes, shocked out how much money littered the stage where people had thrown it. He forgot they were supposed to get close to the audience, let them tuck it into their underwear. They didn't seem to care though. He pulled Derek off the stage; his boyfriend looked like he was in a trance, couldn't see anything but him, and couldn't think of anything but him. Stiles liked it. He hoped they'd been able to raise enough money to get people the water they needed.


	20. In the Water

"I can't believe I let you talk me into doing that." Derek wasn't particularly comfortable with the idea that they'd just put on a soft-core porn show for a bunch of college girls. He was glad to be out of the bar. He breathed in the fresh night air. It wasn't quite as chilly as he'd thought it was going to be, but it was still more cold than warm.

"It was fun, don't be such a sour wolf." Stiles bounced around, full of energy.

Derek shook his head, he couldn't help but chuckle. Stiles was full of so much life that it was infectious. His constant need to be in motion, to be doing something was one of the things Derek loved about him the most.

"Let's keep getting each other naked to ourselves in the future."

"We weren't naked; we still had our underwear on."

Derek sighed, reached out to grab Stiles. The teenager came willingly; Derek curled his hands around Stiles's hips. He placed a gentle kiss on his lips before letting him go so they could continue walking. They took a left, headed back onto the edge of campus. There was a sign indicating the building they were passing by was the school's library. Derek heard the sound of trickling water.

They walked in silence, slowly approached a fountain that was designed to look like stacks of books. There were a few benches, one underneath a large tree opposite the stairs that lead to the building's main entrance.

Fireworks blossomed in the night. Vibrant red and piercing blue lights filled the sky. Derek pulled Stiles over to sit on the bench underneath the tree. Stiles pulled Derek's head down for a kiss.

"What was that for?" Derek rubbed a finger across Stiles's cheek.

"Fireworks mean it's midnight. That means it's time for a kiss." Stiles grinned up at him, leaned in for another.

Derek laughed; all things considered it had turned out to be a pretty good night. His head was still fuzzy, he was still getting weak input from his senses, but it didn't matter. They were together.

"Are you excited to go on the ski trip in a couple of weeks?" Derek asked.

"I've been thinking about that, we're going to be in school. I don't think we can miss that many days. I'm thinking about rescheduling it for spring break if Jackson's okay with that."

"Aren't you supposed to spend spring break somewhere warm?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "We spend a lot of time where it's warm. I don't want to miss a chance to go snowboarding."

Derek nudged Stiles with his shoulder. "Do you even know how to snowboard?"

Stiles huffed indignantly. "Of course I do. I'm very well versed in the theories. I own a snowboard. I own a picture of a cartoon guy on a snowboard. How hard could it be?"

"At least you thought it through," Derek said.

Stiles pushed him. Derek winked, pushed him back.

"Let's do something crazy. I'm still all revved up from the dancing," Stiles said.

Derek groaned. He'd had enough of crazy. He wanted decidedly less crazy for a while. His curiosity was peaked though; he wondered what Stiles wanted to do. He rubbed at his eyes; he wasn't sure why he was so tired. Stiles had worked him over pretty hard in the park, but they'd spent longer than that having sex without there being so much lassitude spreading through his muscles.

"Like what?" Derek regretted asking the question as soon as it was out of his mouth.

"Let's go swimming!" Stiles hopped to his feet.

"We're quite a ways from the beach." Derek felt the need to point out the small flaw in Stiles's plan.

"Who needs a beach; we have a pool right here." Stiles pointed at the fountain.

"That's not a pool," Derek said.

Stiles either didn't hear him or was ignoring him. It was the most normal thing the teenager had done all night. "It'll be fun."

"It's January," Derek said. He covered his mouth as he yawned.

"Only barely," Stiles countered.

"That means December was a few minutes ago," Derek said.

Stiles kicked his shoes off, tugged both shirts off and tossed them into the air. Derek looked up when they didn't come back down right away. He sighed; Stiles got his shirts stuck in the tree.

"You're a werewolf, it's not like you're going to freeze to death." Stiles was shimmying out of his pants. It made Derek lose his train of thought. Stiles tossed them up in the air.

Derek sighed; they too also got caught in the tree. Stiles wouldn't have been able to do that on purpose, hadn't even noticed he'd just lost all his clothes. Derek stood up, made his way over to the base of the tree. It looked easy enough to climb.

"I'm more worried about you getting sick."

Stiles made an indignant huffing noise. Derek ignored him, reached up to one of the low hanging branches. He pulled himself up, got his feet against the tree. He was too tired to be climbing in trees like a little boy, but it wasn't as if they could call the fire department to get Stiles's clothes back.

"Why are you climbing a tree?" Stiles climbed into the fountain. "It's not nearly as cold as it seems."

"That's because you're drunk." Derek kept climbing up, looked over his shoulder.

Stiles sat down in the water, it looked like it was only a foot or so deep. "Not drunk, high on life," Stiles said. His voice didn't really sound full of life. It sounded like he was starting to get tired too.

Derek yawned; he made it to the tree branch Stiles's clothes hung from. It didn't seem like it was strong enough to support his weight. He spread himself out, crawled on his belly toward the clothing. He glanced back at Stiles; the teenager was stretched out, resting with his arms spread over the top of one of the walls, head leaning back.

"Don't fall asleep," Derek yawned as he tried to warn Stiles about how dangerous it was to sleep while lying in water.

Stiles yawned. "Just resting my eyes…"

Derek tried to snort, but it came out as a yawn again. He got his fingers wrapped around one of the legs of Stiles's pants, managed to pull them free of the branch. "Get out of the fountain…"

"Just a sec…"

Derek reached further, grabbed Stiles's shirts, thankful that they were still tangled up together. He pulled them close; they smelled good, smelled like Stiles. They were still warm from his body. Derek rested his face against the bundle of clothes. He just needed a second before he'd climb back down. Stiles's clothes were so soft. He didn't even notice when his legs and arms went slack. He was too busy admiring how comfortable the branch was, how good Stiles's clothes felt against his face.

"Stiles… get out… of the fountain…"

"S'five more minutes…"


	21. Flowers of Light

"So…" Allison traced her fingers over the armrest of the lawn chair. "Jackson's pretty hot." Allison wasn't sure why she'd been so focused on it throughout the day. He had gorgeous lips, perfect skin, and amazingly soft hair. She could see why Scott thought he was attractive.

"That's why I'm dating him," Lydia said.

Allison glanced at her. She knew there was more to Lydia and Jackson than physical attraction, more than social currency. Lydia had never told her, but she could see it. There were lots of tiny hints. Allison looked over the skyline. San Francisco was beautiful; she wished she'd been able to see the sunset. She pulled her phone out of her purse, it was almost midnight.

She shivered; the night had turned colder than she'd thought it would. Lydia shifted her weight, reached down to grab the blanket at the foot of the chair they were sharing. Allison smiled when Lydia draped it over them.

"I love Scott." Allison wanted that to be clear. It was one of, if not the most important thing in her life. They'd beaten odds that could have torn other people apart, both in a relationship sense as well as an actual physical sense.

"I know. He loves you too." Lydia brushed a lock of hair away from her face, turned to regard Allison. "I'm starting to think you might have a crush on Jackson though."

Allison turned away, didn't want Lydia to see the color in her cheeks. She couldn't get Jackson off her mind. Ever since they'd left the hotel room she wondered what he was doing. Part of her thought it was because he was with Scott, that they were together. There was another part of her, some baser part she'd not confronted before that told her she wanted him on a more primitive level. It was just so odd because she'd never really thought of him like that before, and she'd seen him soaked and wearing only a tiny pair of swim trunks. She'd liked what she'd seen.

She wondered if that's how Scott felt, not about the swim trunks specifically, but in general. If he had some rumbling desire in his belly that he couldn't put a name to. She rubbed her thumbs over her eyelids, she'd had a sort of headache ever since she'd drank whatever the group had shared in the hotel room.

"I thought hangovers weren't supposed to happen until the day after." Allison pouted, rifled through her purse looking for some pain relievers.

"I imagine it's probably due to whatever was in the bottles Stiles poured us. Something tells me he didn't manage to get it from the local liquor store." Lydia turned in the chair, retrieved a bottle of water from a shopping bag sitting next to them. She handed it to Allison.

"Thanks, Lydia." Allison took the bottle, poured a few Advil out of the small case she'd found in her purse. She washed them down with a mouthful of water, rested her head against the cool plastic of the bottle.

Her thoughts drifted for a few moments, content with the silence they were sharing. She'd had a lot of fun with Lydia through the day. The boys were going to be so jealous that they'd won the scavenger hunt. She glanced at the door they'd have to come through to join them. She wondered how much longer they'd be. She couldn't wait to hug Jackson.

Allison sat up, shook her head. Jackson? No, she couldn't wait to hug Scott. She couldn't wait to kiss him, watch him squirm a little nervously as her fingers brushed through his blonde… through his black hair.

"I think there's something wrong with me," Allison whispered.

Lydia reached out, placed the back of her hand against Allison's forehead. "You feel a little warm, but nothing too bad."

Allison looked away. Why couldn't she stop thinking about Jackson? "What am I going to do?"

"About what?" Lydia turned, pillowed her head with one hand against the back of the chair. "About Scott?"

Allison turned, mirrored Lydia's posture, but couldn't meet her gaze. "I love him."

Lydia nodded. "Everyone knows that."

"I'm just not sure that… I'm not sure that I'm enough for him." It stung to speak the words, to put them out in the open where another person could hear them. It was like confessing her greatest fears. She was terrified that giving voice to it would make it real.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Of course you are, he practically lives and breathes you. Is this about him and Jackson?"

Allison chewed her lower lip. Jackson and Scott, she had no idea what was going on. She understood the history; she understood what had happened at the beach. What happened there hadn't stayed there. It came home with them, they'd all been changed by that single week in ways that none of them had been expecting when they left.

"Maybe he's gay and too afraid to tell me." Allison didn't want to lose him; he was just as important to her as she was to him.

Lydia scoffed. "Please, it's 2012. Things aren't always black and white. The world has a lot of grey in it. Not everything can be classified."

Allison glanced at Lydia's eyes; they were focused on her face, searching her for something. "It's not really 2012 yet."

Fireworks exploded, lit up the night. Booms from the explosions reverberated in her chest. They were up so high, caught in the middle of the show. Different colors painted the night, burning lines trailed through the darkness. Allison held her breath as she watched.

"Looks like we win," Lydia said.

Allison turned to look back at her. "It's midnight."

Lydia nodded. "No boys to kiss, what a bunch of losers."

Allison chewed her lower lip again. She thought about Scott, thought about Jackson. She knew what she was going to do. She'd just have to find the words to explain it, to let Scott know that she understood he needed time to figure things out. She wasn't going anywhere. She'd wait for him. She wasn't going to push him away. Scott lived in the middle of two worlds; maybe the Jackson thing was an extension of that. For some reason, tonight, it was like she could see Jackson the way Scott did. It made sense to her, she'd have to wait and see what happened.

"Just because boys aren't here doesn't mean we have to miss the midnight kiss." Allison tilted her head down, looked at Lydia through the hair that fell in her face. "Not like we've never kissed before."

"True," Lydia looked down at her hands. "No boys here to impress though."

Allison scooted closer to Lydia, felt the chair wobble as she changed positions. If Scott was allowed to try to figure out what was confusing him, she should be allowed to do the same. "Was that all it was about last time?" Lydia's perfume smelled wonderful. Her scent was so clean, so different from Scott or any of the boys. She wondered what it would be like to smell Lydia with a werewolf's senses.

"Is it all you wanted it to be about?" Lydia reached out, brushed Allison's hair out of her face.

"I don't know." Allison turned her face against Lydia's hand.

"That's okay; we have time to figure it out. Not just you and I, but Scott and Jackson too. None of us are going anywhere. We can figure out what it all means together."

Allison leaned forward, met Lydia half way. Their lips brushed together softly. Smooth fingers brushed along Allison's cheek, so different from Scott's lacrosse calloused hands. She didn't know what it meant, but Lydia had been right, they'd have time to figure it all out together. They kissed softly, gently, underneath the flowers of light blooming in the sky.


	22. One Phone Call

Lydia blinked at the sound of her phone ringing. She glanced over; Allison was starting to struggle awake. The sky was lightening; it couldn't have been too late in the morning. Lydia grabbed her phone, she didn't recognize the number. She almost sent it to voicemail, but on instinct she answered.

"This is Lydia," she said.

"Lydia, I'm so glad you answered." Jackson's voice came through the phone, he sounded practically rabid with excitement. "We need a really big favor."

Lydia narrowed her eyes. She sat up fully. Why hadn't the boys met them on the rooftop? She had a feeling she was about to find out, and that it was going to piss her off in a major way.

"What?" She tried to keep her tone even, tried to hide her growing sense of annoyance.

"First, I'd like to begin my two part apology by saying how much I love you." Jackson was using his desperation voice. That was a terrible sign.

"Uh huh. And?" Lydia had a feeling she wasn't going to like where this was going.

"I need you to bail me, Scott, Danny, and Danny's friend out of jail," Jackson said. "This is sort of my one phone call."

Lydia rubbed her temple with her free hand. She was already doing calculations in her head. She could pay their bail, assuming they hadn't eaten someone. She hated boys. She hated boys when they got drunk and ended up in jail. She hadn't known that she did, she'd assumed, now she found out she was right.

"Danny's friend?" Lydia wasn't sure that it was the most appropriate place to start, but she felt it would be the part that pissed her off the least.

"Who's that?" Allison asked as she sat up. "Where's everyone else?"

Lydia placed her hand over the cell phone's microphone. She glanced over at Allison. "One second. I'm contemplating how I'm going to murder our boyfriends."

Allison's brown eyes got wide, so wide that it almost made Lydia laugh. She would have if she wasn't considering how to strangle Jackson to death without breaking her nails. Allison looked like she wanted to ask more, but she remained quiet. She began to bite at a nail. Lydia reached out, pulled the hand out of Allison's mouth. Biting nails was not good for nail polish and manicures.

"Jackson, answer my question." Lydia tilted her head to the side, held her phone with her shoulder. She grabbed her purse, started to rummage through it for her wallet. She wanted to make sure she had the right credit cards with her. She always had her credit cards, but now she needed to make sure. They were really her parents' credit cards, but she felt a certain amount of possessiveness for them.

"Danny met a guy; I think it's going to be good for him. Really though, can we focus on the part where we're all in jail?" Jackson sounded desperate. "Also, could you bring me a change of clothes? Scott needs a shirt."

Lydia closed her eyes, took a deep breath. "That's all a joke right? You guys are back at the hotel and this is a joke? Tell me that, Jackson. Tell me it's a joke."

He laughed nervously. "Honey, it's fine really. We got… we got into a bit of a fight. Danny almost got knifed. Scott and I had to intervene. We lost some clothes in the process."

Lydia sighed. He could have at least tired to make up a better excuse. Someone tried to knife Danny? That'd be as likely as someone shooting Bambi in the face. Danny was too adorable for knifing, everyone liked him. If Jackson had said someone tried to knife him for being an ass, she would have believed that.

"Really? Someone tried to stab Danny?" Lydia couldn't help but laugh when she said it. The thought was so ridiculous.

"Oh my god!" Allison sounded alarmed. She reached out and grabbed Lydia's arm.

Lydia covered the phone again, "It's okay. Jackson is just being an idiot." She patted Allison's leg, climbed out of the chair. "We need to go to back to the hotel though, then to the police department."

Allison gaped at her. "What? Why?"

Lydia shrugged. "The boys are all in jail. I'm not sure why yet."

"Everyone? Scott? They're in jail?" Allison looked like she was going to throw up, or faint, or possibly both. Color drained from her skin at an alarming rate. Lydia reached down, picked up the half empty bottle of water and handed it to her.

"Yes, they're in jail," Lydia said. She removed her hand from the phone. "Jackson, are Derek and Stiles with you?"

"No," Jackson said. "I'm not sure where they are. I didn't really want to call either of them. I figured Derek would be really mad. We sort of…"

Lydia narrowed her eyes. She folded up the blanket as she waited for Jackson to finish confessing. "Yes?"

"We sort of revealed ourselves to Danny and his friend. You know, cause of the stabbing." Jackson took a deep breath. Lydia thought he might have been holding his breath waiting for her reaction.

"That's the joke right?" Lydia was going to kill them all. It would be a mercy. If Derek found out about this no amount of breathing exercises were going to keep Scott and Jackson's insides from abruptly being yanked out through their abdomens. She sighed, what a waste of delicious abs that would be.

"No," Jackson said. His expulsion of breath made it seem like he realized just how deep the shit he was standing in was.

"Jackson, you are going to _wish_ it was Derek you told this too when I get done with you." Lydia finished packing away the blanket. "Are you at the police department downtown? So help me, if you are in a suburb or in another city _I_ will tear your throat out with _my_ teeth."

Jackson gulped audibly. "No, we're downtown. Should I begin my two part apology now?"

"Save it. You're going to need all your breath to howl for mercy when I get there." Lydia paused. She glanced at Allison's worried face. "Jackson?"

"Yes?" There was real terror in his voice. Lydia shook her head, couldn't fight the smile that was tugging at her lips. "I'm glad you're alright."

"T-thanks," Jackson stammered. "I'm really gla—"

"Shhh," Lydia whispered. "Don't ruin it, honey. I'm still going to kill you."

She hung up the phone. Allison fidgeted nearby. She reached out, curled her arm through Allison's.

"Jail?" Allison's lips trembled slightly.

"I have no idea, supposedly, Jackson and Scott gave away the werewolf secret to Danny and some new boy he met. _Supposedly_, it was because they were defending Danny from being stabbed by someone." Lydia shook her head. She really couldn't believe it. The whole idea was just ridiculous.

"Danny met a boy?" Allison focused on the least relevant part of the story, probably as a defense mechanism. "I wonder if he's cute."

Lydia smiled. "We're talking about Danny. Of course the guy is going to be cute."

Allison laughed. "They're alright though?" She opened the door, held it so Lydia could go through, and followed right after. She laced her arm through Lydia's as they walked down the stairs to the next floor. "Why are we going to the hotel first?"

"Jackson said he needed clothes. He also said Scott needed a shirt. I'm trying not to think about it too much." Lydia led them to the elevator nearby; hit the button for the first floor. Neither spoke until the elevator reached the bottom floor.

"Lydia?" Allison sounded confused. They walked out of the elevator arm in arm.

"Yes?" Lydia led them out onto the street, looked for a cab to flag down.

"Why aren't we at the hotel?" Allison looked around like she was lost. Her eyes were large as saucers. She bit her lower lip.

Lydia raised an eyebrow at her. "Really? You don't remember?"

"I remember being on the rooftop, I remember talking to you about Jackson and Scott. I remember us kissing." Allison looked down at the ground, twisted the toe of her shoe against the sidewalk.

Lydia shook her head. At least she remembered the important stuff. "It's alright, I'll tell you on the way home. First, let's get the boys out of jail."

Allison sighed. "Boys are stupid."

Lydia laughed, that had never been so true. She wondered what Derek was going to say when he found out about this. At the very least he was going to need to learn that Danny knew about Jackson and Scott. She was going to make sure it didn't happen while they were in the van. She wasn't going to watch as another one got torn apart. They'd never be able to rent a van in the state of California again if Derek tore his way through another. Boys were stupid indeed.


	23. Redrawing the Lines

Allison paced in the lobby while Lydia talked to the officer at the front desk. She wouldn't have believed it if someone told her she'd spend the first day of the New Year in a police station. She twisted the shirt she'd brought for Scott around her hands.

She couldn't believe that anyone would consider stabbing Danny. It didn't make any sense. There had to be more to it than that. She wanted to make sure everyone was alright. She'd suggested to Lydia that they call Derek and Stiles, but Lydia was adamant that she had first dibs on punishing the boys for their stupidity. Considering that they'd outted themselves to Danny and a random guy they'd met the previous night, Allison was reasonably sure Derek would flip out.

"They'll be out in a few minutes," Lydia said. She joined Allison in the middle of the room, placed a hand on her arm to keep her from pacing. "They're fine, for now at least."

"I can't believe they got into a fight." Allison tried to keep her lip from trembling. Things were getting out of control. She couldn't blame everything that had happened on Stiles's alcohol. That wasn't fair; she'd made choices that she'd have to live with too.

"I can. They'd all benefit from anger management lessons."

Allison raised an eyebrow at the clipped tone. Lydia had her own fair share of anger management issues. If there was one thing that was true about every member of the pack, it was that they all had issues. She smiled. They had all the same drama that any group of high school friends would have, they just also had the extra layer of werewolves thrown on top of it.

A door in the corner of the room opened. Jackson was the first one out. Allison clapped a hand over her mouth. He was a wreck. His hair was disheveled; he was wearing the tattered remains of white pants. She could see his underwear through holes in the thighs. He had a single tattered wing bobbing behind him.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Lydia made the question sound like an accusation.

"It's a long story," Jackson said. He kept his head down.

Allison tilted her head to the side. He looked sort of adorable with his single broken wing. There was something about the image that fit him. He seemed a little nervous, his eyes dancing between the girls watching him. She was about to ask him what was wrong, but her train of thought got derailed as Scott came through the door.

"Wow. Those most have taken quite a long time to paint onto you," Lydia said. Her eyes raked over the tight black pants Scott had stuffed himself into.

Allison couldn't help but laugh. He had adorable little devil horns on; he was twisting a red tail in his hands. His costume didn't seem to be in nearly as bad a shape as Jackson's. The fact that they were in costumes at all was shocking. What had they gotten into?

"Hey," Scott said. He kept his head ducked low as he walked up to her.

She smiled, untangled the shirt from her hands and offered it to him. He smiled back, kissed her on the cheek. She watched him pull the shirt over his head. It snagged on one of the horns. He spun a in place trying to get it free. He was such a mess. She tucked her hands into the top of the shirt and got the fabric untangled. "There you go," she said.

"Thanks." Scott wrapped her up in his arms, hugged her tight against his body. "I need to tell you what happened last night."

Allison's mouth went dry. She had things she needed to tell him too. She didn't want to do it in the middle of the police station. She looked at Jackson over Scott's shoulder. He looked a little sad, cast his eyes to the floor and turned away from them.

They were in a weird place, all four of them were. The lines between all of them had been blurred, kept getting less distinct as time passed. There were times when she was jealous, times that she was angry, but most of the time she was afraid. She was afraid that Scott would realize one day that being with a human from a family of hunters was a bad idea.

She tightened her arms around Scott's shoulders, curled her fingers into the back of his hair. She didn't want to lose him. Lydia was watching them, her expression thoughtful and calculating. Allison turned her head into Scott's neck.

"I love you," Allison said. "You know that right?"

"Of course." Scott's voice didn't leave any room for doubt. "I love you too."

It'd taken them a lot to get to that point. It hadn't been easy. People liked to say that nothing that was worth it was ever easy. She wished she didn't know how true that was.

"I have something I need to tell you about last night too," Allison said against Scott's neck.

He tightened his arms around her again. If he kept going he was going to crush her. She didn't mind, there were worse places to be in the world than in the arms of an overly strong werewolf. Her father probably wouldn't agree though.

Scott pulled away from her just as Danny and a boy she'd never seen before came through the same door the others had. They were holding hands. Allison winked at Danny. Lydia let out an appreciative whistle.

The boy behind Danny gave them a small smile. He had soft auburn hair, and deep blue eyes. Allison grinned. Danny had caught himself quite an attractive fish. Neither of them were wearing costumes. It made Jackson and Scott stand out even more.

"Hey," Danny said. "This is Oliver."

Oliver waved at the two girls. "Hi."

"I want to know everything about you," Lydia said. She pushed the bag that held the change of clothes into Jackson's arms. "Go get dressed, honey."

Jackson sighed. He took the bag and headed into the restroom. Oliver didn't shift at all under Lydia's gaze. Allison grinned. He certainly seemed confident in himself. That was good. She hoped he'd be good for Danny.

"That'll have to wait, Lydia." Danny watched Jackson retreat towards the bathroom. "Oliver and I need to talk about some things. You can interrogate him later." Danny turned to look at Oliver, reached out and took his other hand. "Assuming there's going to be a later?"

Oliver smiled. "Laters are great. I'm a big fan of laters."

Allison was already a big fan of Oliver. He seemed sweet. Danny deserved sweet. She didn't know him very well, but he'd gone out of his way to make sure they all were safe before they'd gone out. He seemed like a good friend to have. She wanted to get to know him more. She had a feeling that since he was now in on the secret, she'd get the chance.

Danny led Oliver out the front door of the police station. Lydia sat down near the bathroom to wait for Jackson. That left her and Scott relatively alone. She pulled him towards the far side of the room. They sat together on a bench.

"Scott," Allison tried to keep her voice steady. She didn't want him to think anything was wrong. "I think we should see other people." She looked up in time to see Scott shudder as if she'd stabbed him in the heart.

"But—"

"Wait," she interrupted him. She needed to make herself clear before he started speaking. She placed a finger over his lips. "What I mean to say is that I think we should stay together, but we should be allowed to see other people too. As long as the other people we see are okay with it too."

Scott's brown eyes were so large, so open that it took Allison's breath away. She couldn't help but feel like she'd caused him some irreparable harm. She knew that it was what they needed though. If they were going to survive, if they were going to make it as a couple, they needed to be able to explore the changes that were taking place.

"W-w-why?" Scott's voice cracked. His grip on Allison's hands tightened. "I-I-I love you. You said you knew that right?"

"I do, Scott." There was no way she was ever going to doubt that. "I kissed Lydia last night. I was drunk, but that's not an excuse. I think that we need to redraw the lines of our relationship. I know that you feel something for Jackson. I know that it's hurting you to be held back from that."

Scott looked down at their clasped hands. "Something happened last night between Jackson and me."

Allison swallowed down the pain that threatened to burst out of her. She didn't want to know what that something was. She'd wrestled for a long time with what had taken place at the beach. She'd thought it was because of Derek, because of his repressed emotions. That wasn't fair though, wasn't fair to Scott and Jackson. She knew it was more than that. She could see it in their eyes. She'd seen it on Christmas.

"It's okay. I'm going to talk to Lydia. If she and Jackson agree to it then I want it to be open between us. I want you to explore what you want with Jackson, as long as you try not to hurt each other. I want to be free to explore too." They were the hardest words she'd ever had to say. Somehow it was worse than when she told Scott she didn't want him to call. It was harder than when she said she needed time to get back to being just friends. If they were going to work it out, if they were going to end up together, they had to set each other free. If they were meant to be then they'd find their way back to each other.

"I'm sorry," Scott said. "I wish you didn't have to do this for me. I wish I didn't feel the way I do."

Allison shook her head, squeezed his hands. "That's what I need you to understand, Scott. I'm not just doing it for you. I'm doing it for me too."

"I love you," Scott whispered.

She believed him; she couldn't look into his soft brown eyes and believe anything else.

"I love you too," she said.

She leaned forward, rested her head on his shoulder. She knew it was for the best. If they didn't try they'd start to resent each other. They'd take risks, maybe even sneak around on each other. She couldn't let that happen. They were all bound together in different ways. Every member of the pack had ties to each other that people on the outside wouldn't be able to understand. She knew that it was the best thing to do, even if it hurt just a little.

"I wish it was different," Scott said. "I wish that we didn't feel this."

"No you don't. Don't cheapen what you're feeling. That's not fair to Jackson." The words didn't even hurt coming out. It was true. Scott and Jackson had something. It wasn't clearly defined the way the other relationships in the pack were, but it was there. Allison's relationship with Lydia was even more muddled.

"We'll figure it out together." Scott wrapped an arm around her shoulder, kissed the top of her hair. "No matter what else happens, you and I, we're going to make it out on the other side together."

Allison tilted her head up, kissed the underside of his chin. He shook his head a little, let out a small laugh. She loved that he was a little ticklish. "We're going to be fine, all of us. You'll see," Allison said.

It was true. Allison knew that, knew that Scott would hear the truth of it in her heartbeat. They were a pack. Peter knew that before any of the rest of them did. They were going to stay together, because that's what packs did. She didn't always understand it, she probably never would the way that the werewolves did, but that didn't make it any less special to her.


	24. Putting it in Perspective

Jackson looked at the broken wing in his hands. Flashes of memory occasionally surfaced about things that had happened the night before, but it was jumbled and hazy. He knew that he'd done things with Scott, sexual things, but he wasn't sure exactly how far it'd gone. He leaned back against the wall of the bathroom stall he was in. For some reason things never happened with Scott on purpose. The only thing they'd ever consciously decided to do was kiss at Christmas, and even that had been because of Lydia's rules.

First it had been Derek's repressed emotions, then Stiles's werewolf booze. He tossed the harness and wing onto the back of the toilet and finished getting dressed. There were bigger things to think about than his ill defined relationship with Scott. They were going to have to tell Derek what had happened, but before that he was going to have to face Danny and explain why he'd never told his best friend that he was a werewolf.

He grabbed the tattered pieces of his costume and made his way towards the exit of the bathroom. Jackson paused by the trashcan near the door to the lobby. Throwing the costume away was probably best, it wasn't like he could wear it again considering the shape it was in, but instead of pitching it he stuffed it into the bag that Lydia had given him with the change of clothes in it.

Jackson checked his hair in the bathroom mirror, splashed some water on his face. No one could have prepared him for the night he'd had. If he'd known he was going to be spilling his guts to Danny about the whole wolf thing he'd have made a speech or something. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror, summoned up all the confidence he could, and exited the bathroom.

"Well that's certainly better," Lydia said. She stood up from the bench, reached out and fixed Jackson's hair more to her liking.

"It was cool when it hadn't been through a knife fight or smashed through a window." Jackson smiled. He wondered if Lydia even consciously realized that she was grooming him. The petty spoiled rich kid in Jackson wanted to run his hands through his hair to get it back to the way he had it, but he didn't bother. Lydia was trying to help in the only way she knew how, on her terms.

"What?" Lydia raised an elegant eyebrow at him.

"Nothing." Jackson leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. "I need to go talk to Danny. Alone. I've got to tell him about the whole werewolf thing, not that he doesn't already know."

Lydia nodded and stepped aside. "He's out front, saying goodbye to his new friend." Jackson was close to the door when he heard Lydia call out, "Don't worry so much. He's still going to be your friend. He's still going to love you."

Jackson didn't turn to look back at his girlfriend, but some of the tension in his back and shoulders slipped away. Lydia was probably right. Danny wasn't going to disown him or declare they weren't friends anymore. He'd probably be pissed for a little while that Jackson hadn't shared his secrets, but he'd eventually understand.

The sunlight outside was harsh; Jackson squinted his eyes against it and held up a hand to shadow his face. At least he wasn't feeling hungover, there was something to be said for a brew that could get werewolves drunk and leave them feeling fine the next day. He glanced around and caught sight of Danny giving Oliver a kiss on the cheek. Jackson hung back, waited for Oliver to get into the taxi they'd flagged down. There was a wistful look on Danny's face as he watched the vehicle pull away.

Jackson sat down on one of the benches by the door. He ran his fingers along the metal, picked at one of the multitude of decorative holes. Danny's heartbeat was steady and powerful in Jackson's ears. His friend dropped onto the bench next to him without saying anything.

"So…" Jackson glanced over at Danny, who looked to be making sure no one was really close enough to be listening in to their conversation. "I guess we have some stuff to talk about."

Danny chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." Brown eyes focused on Jackson's face as Danny leaned back against the wall and crossed his hands behind his head.

One of the things Jackson admired about Danny was how easy going he was about everything. He took things in stride, didn't judge people, and was almost always friendly and open with everyone. In short, he was everything Jackson wasn't, but sometimes wished he was.

"I'm a werewolf, so is Scott, and Derek." Saying the words out loud sounded ridiculous. It didn't matter that it was true, it just wasn't the kind of thing you could say without feeling self conscious.

"Not Stiles?" Danny asked. He had a crooked smile on his face.

"No." Jackson grinned. "I think every day that passes the rest of the pack breathes a sigh of relief that he isn't." That wasn't really true; Jackson thought Stiles would make an excellent werewolf if he could focus. He just thought the joke would help make the rest of the conversation easier.

"Pack? You mean the three of you?"

"No, the six of us. Allison, Stiles, and Lydia are all a part of it too."

Danny's brow furrowed in thought. "But they're not werewolves."

Jackson nodded. "True, but they're so close with everyone that we're all sort of bound together." As soon as the words were out of Jackson's mouth he regretted them. Saying it like that implied that Danny wasn't important, and nothing could be further from the truth.

Birds chirped from nearby trees. Jackson turned to look so that he wouldn't have to see whatever hurt might be in Danny's eyes. The birds sang for a few moments, and then took wing into the sky. Jackson watched them arc through the air and into the horizon; they probably didn't have a care in the world.

"I get it," Danny said. "I get why you didn't say anything."

Jackson turned to look back at Danny; his brown eyes weren't narrowed in any sort of accusation. They were soft and open; Danny had a small smile on his lips. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. You wanted to keep me out of it so that I wouldn't get hurt. Plus it's not like I was around very much over the summer. I had stuff going on, you had stuff going on. You were turning into a werewolf, and I was getting dumped over the phone while I was out of town. You got off easy." Danny nudged Jackson's arm with his elbow.

Jackson grinned and shook his head. Just like that Danny wiped all the fear out of Jackson's heart. Regardless of what Lydia said, there was a part of Jackson who was afraid Danny would get pissed. He couldn't say he'd blame Danny if he had.

"Yeah, I mean I've spent full moons locked in a cage to keep from eating random woodland creatures in a fit of bloodlust, but at least I wasn't locked up in my room blubbering into my pillow while listening to Adele. That's just rough."

Danny started laughing. Jackson couldn't help but join in after a few seconds. He missed this, missed having his best friend around to make jokes with and poke fun at. Danny never had a problem putting Jackson in his place when it was necessary. No matter what Derek said, Jackson was glad that Danny had found out their secret, he intended to make sure Danny was a part of the pack.

"So, are you going to throw out the other thing you've been keeping from me, or is that going to be a conversation for another day?" Danny looked down at the cement between his shoes.

Jackson's laughter abruptly cut off. Danny must have been talking about Scott. Jackson leaned his head back and looked up into the sky. Soft white clouds drifted lazily above. They passed in front of the sun, cut away the harsh brightness. "You're talking about what happened between me and Scott?" Jackson tilted his head to the side in time to see Danny nod. "Can I get back to you on that? I still need to figure it out for myself."

Danny nodded again. "Sure. If you ever need to talk about it you know I'm sort of an expert on the subject. Not Scott, just in general."

"Yeah, we're going to talk about it. Probably once we get home, maybe you can come over for dinner or whatever. I don't really want to talk about it where he could hear."

Danny's eyes widened. "He could hear you even though we're out here?"

"Yeah, there are some benefits to being a werewolf."

"I'd hope so considering the awful sideburns you end up with because of it." Danny smirked.

Jackson punched Danny lightly in the arm, but didn't say anything. They were kind of awful, but it's not like he had time to groom right after wolfing out, and even if he did it's not like it'd matter because the hair would be back when he changed again. There were a lot of positives to being a werewolf, there were a lot of negatives too, but chief amongst them was how aesthetically displeasing he felt it made him. He sighed, it could have been worse; he could have been covered in hair like that thing from the Adams Family.


	25. Make a Stand

Jackson had barely gotten the whole story out about what had happened at the club before Derek slammed him up against the wall. They were so close that Jackson could smell toothpaste and the lingering scent of Stiles on Derek's breath.

"What do you mean you couldn't help it?" Derek's words were as cold as his eyes. He twisted Jackson's shirt in his fist. "This isn't a game; you put the whole pack at risk."

Danny rushed forward, put a hand on Derek's arm, and tried to pull him away. The Alpha didn't even budge. Glittering purple energy flared in his eyes, but he didn't direct his attention towards Danny at all. Fury rose in Jackson's chest. He'd make the same choice again if he had to. There was no way he was going to watch Danny get hurt when he could do something to stop it.

"What if it had been Stiles?" Jackson didn't bother to try to hide the challenge in his voice. "What if it had been Allison or Lydia?" There was no way he could break free from Derek's grip, but he refused to let Derek intimidate him into apologizing for saving his friend. "Don't act like you wouldn't make the same choice."

Derek's eyes narrowed. "That's not the same thing, they're pack."

"Derek…" Scott moved up and placed a hand on Derek's shoulder. Jackson didn't need Scott's help; he didn't need anyone's help. He knew that he was on the bottom of the pack's hierarchy, but that didn't mean he needed anyone to save him.

"Stay out of this, Scott. It's not any of your business," Jackson snapped.

Scott's brown eyes blinked at him for a few moments before he took a few steps back, mouth slack, and the spiky scent that Jackson associated with Scott when he was in pain knifed through the air. Guilt ripped through Jackson's chest, but he couldn't think about it until he finished dealing with Derek.

"As far as the pack goes, either Danny's in, or I'm out." Jackson ground his teeth together hard enough he thought they might crack. The thought of losing the pack, losing the place where he belonged caused bile to rise in his throat, but it didn't matter if Danny couldn't be a part of it too.

Jackson didn't really know how it was for everyone else, but the pack was more to him than just people he was friends with. He loved Lydia, loved Scott if he was being honest with himself, but he also thought of Stiles, Derek, and Allison like family. For someone who had never had a brother or sister, the thought of losing them was terrifying. Danny meant something too though; he meant something before all of the rest of them ever had. He was the first close friend Jackson had ever had, the person he shared secrets with, could be himself around. He'd trade the rest of them for Danny. Maybe that meant he wasn't really a member of the pack, or maybe it meant that Danny always had been in his mind. Either way it didn't matter, the words were in the air and he couldn't take them back. He didn't even want to.

Lydia could have intervened, but she didn't, and Jackson was thankful for that. She must have known he'd resent her for saving him. Scott's knuckles were white, his hands clenched together so tightly that Jackson could smell blood from where the nails had pierced through skin. Stiles had a thoughtful expression on his face, while Allison chewed her lower lip nervously.

"That's how little the pack means to you?" Derek's voice had no emotion in it, but the question was loud enough that it sounded like it echoed through the hotel room. "You'd just throw it all away?"

Jackson focused all of his pride; he let his wolf fill his normally blue eyes with emerald green power. "That's how much _Danny_ means to me." The words silenced all the other noise in the room.

Danny looked at him like he'd suddenly grown three heads, all of them spouting gibberish. Lydia had a small smile on her face, her scent flared with a fierce pride. Stiles broke the silence with a soft whistle.

"Stop flirting with Jackson, Derek. You know you can't make me jealous." Stiles grinned as he came forward and wrapped an arm over Danny's shoulder. "Don't worry man, Derek's not really mad. This is how he shows affection, also why I have bruises on my ass sometimes." Scott groaned and shook his head. Stiles looked scandalized. "I meant because of all the pushing and the wolf hugs not because… not because…" Stiles's neck and ears turned bright red.

The purple light faded from Derek's eyes, but he still scowled at Stiles. He let go of Jackson's shirt and took a step back. "Everybody pack up, we're headed back to Beacon Hills." He started to walk towards the bedroom that he shared with Stiles. "Make sure Danny shows up at the pack meetings, Jackson."

Stiles grinned at Danny. "So the first thing you need to know about being a human in a pack of werewolves is that we have our own tree fort. We have our own meetings, those meetings are mostly about paintball, pie, and sometimes we let Lydia talk about fashion magazines."

Lydia snorted. "You mean you beg me to help you look sexy instead of like a hobo so that Derek will give you sex whenever you want it."

Stiles did a fair approximation of one of Derek's better scowls. "Quiet woman. Not where the children can hear!"

Danny grabbed Jackson's arm and lead him away from everyone else. Jackson wasn't sure what Danny was going to say, he didn't even know if Danny actually wanted to be a member of the pack. Before he could open his mouth and offer an explanation, Danny pulled him into a tight hug.

"Thanks. I'm not really sure what being in a pack is supposed to mean, but if it means we get to hang out more then I'm all for it."

Jackson stood frozen for a moment; he wasn't very good with on-the-fly affection. This wasn't just a random person though, it was Danny. He hugged him back. "Of course, man, you're my best friend."

Danny smiled at him, and then turned to go start packing up to head home. Allison, Lydia, and Stiles all went in separate directions to gather their stuff. The smell of Scott's blood still lingered in the air. Jackson turned to look at him.

Furious yellow light roiled through Scott's eyes. He moved across the room so quickly that Jackson took an involuntary step backwards. Scott's arm snapped out and caught him by the back of the neck; the sharp points of his claws pressed against his skin, but didn't pierce it. Jackson swallowed nervously; he would never admit it to anyone, but even after having been turned there was a part of him that was still intimidated by Scott. The wolf in him was wild and powerful. Jackson wasn't sure whether he was shaking out of fear or desire.

"Don't ever tell me to back off again," Scott growled. Jackson didn't know whether to apologize, or to tell Scott to go fuck himself. He didn't have enough time to decide, because Scott pulled him forward and claimed his mouth in a bruising kiss. "How you feel is my business," Scott whispered against his lips. "The things that are important to you are my business." Scott kissed him again, softer, more lingering. "You're my business."


	26. Another Step Closer

Stiles haphazardly tossed a handful of clothes into his suitcase. Normally he wouldn't have noticed Derek remove everything he'd just packed in order to repack it correctly, but he'd been scrutinizing his boyfriend after the altercation with Jackson. His Dereksense told him there was something just underneath the surface, something Derek had been trying to hide.

"I'm onto you, Frowny."

"I'm not surprised. You see more than that flaming eye in Morgar," Derek said.

Stiles was so stunned by Derek's reference that he didn't even have the heart to correct the mistake he'd made. Derek making Lord of the Rings jokes, he needed to double check but he was relatively sure that was one of the signs of the end of days. The Mayans may have had it right.

"You can't do that," Stiles said. "You can't become more adorkable than me because then I would have to learn to scowl and yell to maintain the balance of our relationship."

Derek grunted in agreement and went back to folding Stiles's boxers. He dropped them into suitcase and though Stiles would never say it out loud, there was something about Derek handling his clothes that made Stiles's belly warm. He shook his head to clear it of distractions.

"You're not mad at Jackson." Stiles watched carefully for Derek's reaction, but all he got was another grunt. "I think you're proud of him for standing up for his friend. You might have fooled him, but only because he was too upset to assess you with his wolfy senses."

Derek shrugged then zipped up the suitcase. "You're think you're very clever don't you, Stiles?"

Smugness probably wasn't an attractive scent, but Stiles was sure it was probably rolling off his skin. This wasn't Stiles's first werewolf rodeo, he was pretty sure he'd nailed it on the head. "You think I'm clever too, that's why you keep me around."

"That and the blowjobs."

"Yes and the… wait what?" Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek.

Derek grinned. "Don't look so scandalized, you know there are other reasons I keep you around."

"Like what?" It was always a pleasure when Derek sang his praises. The world could do with more days with that as the focus of conversation.

Derek picked the suitcase up and headed for the door. He paused as he passed Stiles and patted him on the ass. Stiles wasn't sure he liked what Derek was implying, he was more than just a piece of meat.

"Don't get huffy; you know I'm only playing with you." Derek leaned over and kissed Stiles on the cheek. "There's someone waiting to talk to you, everyone else has already headed outside."

Stiles scowled at Derek's back. Huffy? Stiles was not huffy. He wished Derek would turn around and gaze in awe at the scowl on his face. A scowl that put all of Derek's sour frowning to shame. He was going to make a video with his webcam, a how to scowl video, and then give it to Derek along with a PowerPoint presentation explaining the finer points.

Derek pushed the door open. Lydia stood looking out over the city. She had her arms crossed over her chest, but it wasn't an imperious gesture, it was almost as if she were hugging herself. The difference probably wasn't noticeable to most people, but Stiles had loved Lydia for so long that even the tiniest gestures held different meanings for him. Derek walked out of the hotel room without giving any indication of being aware of Lydia's mood.

"Hey, beautiful, penny for your thoughts?" Stiles joined Lydia at the window. The view was incredible. Sunlight reflected off thousands of panes of glass. People scurried about so far below them, little dots of color hurrying along the streets.

Lydia turned towards him. She was radiant as ever, the red in her hair all the more vivid against the soft blue of the sky. "A penny? Please." She tilted her head up, and despite the fact that he was taller than she was, she somehow made it seem as though she were looking down at him in judgment. "What was in the drinks you served us?"

Stiles licked his lips and ran a hand across the back of his hair. So far no one had questioned him about the brew. He had been hoping that with everything else the party favors he'd provided would be forgotten. "I don't know what you mean…"

"Don't play stupid, Stiles. I have far more experience with it; you're just making yourself look like an amateur." Lydia's judgmental gaze elevated from one of a disapproving parent to the level of a goddess running out of patience. "Spill."

"It was just a recipe I found in a book. It was supposed to be able to get werewolves drunk. There was some other nonsense about power transfer or spirit linking, honestly I skimmed that part and focused in on the whole get werewolves wasted thing." Stiles laughed, but it came out a little shrill. He coughed to clear his throat. "Just some magical mumbo jumbo, nothing that important."

Lydia shook her head sadly. Stiles's shoulders slumped. The single gesture made him feel the same way letting his dad down did. Lydia was queen of guilt trips. If he could find a way to commercialize it they'd be so rich buying Google would come out of the petty cash fund.

"Something happened last night," Lydia said. "Allison kept going on and on about Jackson. It was like she was obsessed with him. From what little I've been able to gather from questioning Scott and Danny, they both felt odd most of the night as well."

Stiles whistled innocently, but cut off when Lydia turned the disapproval dial well past eleven. The insane part of his mind seemed perplexed as to why his clothes hadn't caught fire under the heat of her eyes.

"No one got hurt. It was all—"

"Why didn't it affect me?"

Stiles's mind grasped for answers, but nothing jumped out at him. Lydia started pacing, and he let out a small sigh of relief. She'd turned her attention away from him, and he hadn't been verbally or physically eviscerated. So far he was pretty sure he was winning. He didn't know what he was winning though.

"Was it just simple math? Three werewolves, but four humans, does that mean there wasn't enough werewolf compulsion to reach out to everyone?" Lydia's rambling was barely audible, and Stiles didn't really think he should try and interrupt. "Or is there something different about me? We still don't know why I didn't turn, or die from Peter's bite. Can it be a coincidence or are they connected?" Lydia froze in place, color drained from her already pale skin. "Is there something wrong with me?"

On instinct Stiles closed this distance between them and wrapped her in his arms. Her whole body went stiff, like she was a porcelain doll, completely indifferent to human contact. He turned his face into her hair, she smelled like flowers and sunshine. Derek probably would have scoffed at the analogy and clarified the specific scents, but to Stiles, Lydia was always going to remind him of summer days and beautiful flowers.

"There _is_ something different about you," Stiles whispered into her hair. "I've known it since the third grade, since the first day I fell in love with you." He curled his hands into the back of her shirt. "You're special, in ways you couldn't even hope to understand. We live in a world with werewolves, magic bullets, and alchemical booze, but none of that is as unbelievable as how amazing you can be. There's nothing wrong with you. If you're worried that there's something else going on, then I'll figure it out. I'll research the hell out of it; we'll run tests or something. You're science lady, I'm paranormal research guy. The world can't hide anything from us for too long."

Lydia's arms wrapped around his waist, the porcelain exterior cracked and she wasn't an indifferent doll, she was a human girl who needed another person to remind her that it was okay to let other people in.

"Thank you, Stiles. I love you."

The words were soft currents of air against his cheek. Two years ago he would have wanted nothing more than to hear those words, to have them followed by a soft brush of ruby red lips. He still wanted to make sure that she was never sad, to protect her from anything and everything, but the reasons were different.

"I love you too, Lydia. Just don't let Derek hear you say that, you know how insecure he is."

Lydia's laughter was soft, but genuine, and he wondered if it was the first time he'd ever really heard it. She pulled away and turned before he could see her face. She rubbed at her eyes.

"I need to fix my makeup, you smeared it when you thrust your shoulder into my face like I was an opposing lacrosse player trying to steal the ball," Lydia said. She walked quickly to the bathroom, and with every step she took she seemed to gain confidence, her spine a little straighter and her head a little higher.

Lydia had put her head on his shoulder, he hadn't forced her and they both knew it. They also both knew that he didn't really know what it was like to have someone try to steal the ball from him on the lacrosse field, but since she was kind enough not to point that out, he didn't feel the need to call her on the tears. It'd be something just between the two of them, a little secret they would keep. When they found out how she was different, why she hadn't turned and why she wasn't affected by the brew, they could keep that secret between themselves also if they needed to. Lydia would probably think it was necessary, but that was just because she hadn't accepted the idea that everyone in the pack loved her just as much as he did. She'd learn though. One day there wouldn't be a need for secrets, and when that day came they'd finally be complete as a pack.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**I hope you've all enjoyed the story, the series continues with 'Words Aren't Always Enough'.**


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